


Stripped Bare

by Steph_Rob94



Category: Criminal Minds, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover Pairings, F/M, FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 88,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steph_Rob94/pseuds/Steph_Rob94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When sleep finally lulled her in its gentle arms, she dreamt not of the past or of the present but of the future she was so looking forward to that would rewrite her well laid plans. *Spencer Reid/Hermione Granger*<br/>This story is also posted on Fanfiction.Net under my pen name steph2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stripped Bare

Chapter One: Goodbyes Are Never Easy

"So, you were just going to leave then? Not say goodbye?" Hermione tensed as the irritated voice of Ronald Weasley reached her. A silent Harry Potter stood a few inches behind him. His green eyes stared at her as she sat in the uncomfortable seat at London Heathrow Airport. The people passing by paid no mind to the three friends. Ronald's blue eyes burned in barely contained anger and hurt. "If you're going to abandon your friends you could sat least say goodbye!" Hermione's eyes flashed.

"I'm not abandoning any of you. You all have a cellphone with my number programed into it," she answered. Her tone never rose. She simply sat in the airport seat and stared up at her friend that was content in making a scene. His red hair now matched the redness of his face. He shoved a fallen lock of his shoulder length red hair out of the way and stepped closer to the woman.

"It's not the same if you aren't here!" Ronald hissed. Hermione was tempted to stand and hug him as the old feelings she had for the man rose to the surface. Her heart shuttered as she ignored them. Their time together had long past been over-two years over. A bitter smile threatened to rise to her lips.

"Ron, I'm home!" She had called as she pushed open the door to their flat. They had moved into the two bedrooms, one bathroom apartment home shortly after the "glory" of the war had died down. It had taken only a few months, not even six. It only took three.

Hermione was content to spend the rest of her life with the man inside. She was, until she opened their bedroom door to put her bag filled with papers that needed to be graded down. She froze. The bag fell from her limp hand.

Ronald Weasley and Lavender Brown sat on the bed that Ron and she had occupied just the night before. Although, the activities the two in bed were committing was different from the simple sleeping they had done. All activity stilled at the thud. Then, it exploded.

Lavender gasped. Ronald cursed and struggled from underneath the covers. It would have been comical had the situation been different. All Hermione could do was stand and watch as the young red headed man tumbled from the bed. She refused to make a scene. She simply walked past the blubbering Lavender and the shell shocked Ronald. She opened the closet drew and charmed all of her things into a bag. She was aware of Ron's attempts at speech. She said nothing and gave no indication he was even there.

An hour later, Hermione Granger showed up at Harry and Ginny Potter's residence. Her brown eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall. Ronald Weasley didn't deserve them any longer. No matter how many times she told herself he didn't, it still hurt.

"Besides," she continued on as if she hadn't heard her angry friend or been assaulted by the still painful memories, "I'll still be working for the Ministry, I'll just be in America on call. It's not like this is goodbye."

"So why does it feel like one?!" Ronald demanded. His hands had shaken in the effort to hold back his emotional pain. Hermione sighed as her flight was called. She gathered up her two suitcases and stood from the seat.

"That's me," she had stated as she stood solemnly before them. It was a somber scene to many of the people passing. A small gasp had escaped her lips as Harry Potter yanked her into his arms.

"Be careful and call frequently," Harry demanded. Hermione smiled against the black shirt he had on. With a heavy heart, she slipped out from his arms. They fell back to his side. With a small sigh, Hermione turned to Ronald Weasley. The redhead seemed to have begun to shake harder. Ronald didn't understand.

"Goodbye, Ron…" Hermione mumbled as she walked past him. His shoulders gave a slight heave and a choked noise that resembled a pained wail threatened to push to the surface. Hermione's eyes once more filled with tears as she forced herself not to turn around.

With a small sigh, Hermione Granger climbed aboard the airplane bound for the United States. With a small frown on her face, she looked out toward the airport. The tears she fought to suppress threatened to spill over when she saw a grim-faced Harry Potter and a stony looking Ronald Weasley.

"Harry," Hermione called in a tiny voice. No one had told her. No one had wanted to hurt her. Now, all Harry Potter wanted to do was strangle his dense best friend. The wedding invitation fell limply from Hermione's hand.

"You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Ronald Weasley and Lavender Brown." It wasn't lost on either of the friends that Ronald had chosen that his middle name not be written on the invite. Ginny picked up the invite as it touched the tile of the kitchen floor.

It had been nearly a year since their spilt, but when Grangers loved they loved hard and faithfully. Ginny and Harry scowled as they looked down at the invite Ginny had set on the table. They jumped as the invite caught fire.

"I take it you're not going, then?" Harry asked as the last of the invite disappeared into thin air. Hermione pressed her lips harder together and gave no answer.

A small gasp escaped her as the American Airlines plane left the runway. She winced as her ears popped violently, but she did not look away from the airport as the plane climbed higher and higher into the sky. The memories of her life, the one she was leaving behind in England, ran free in her mind.

The twenty-two year old witch closed her eyes and forced herself not to regret her decision.

Much to the shock of friends and the Weasleys, Hermione Granger attended the wedding. She didn't object when the preacher gave the cue; instead, she sat and watched as the man she loved was married to another.

"Be happy," Hermione had wished the couple as she left the reception. It was a double edged blessing. It delighted the two newly wedded couple; yet, it also made them feel extremely vile.

She kept her silent promise to Molly and Arthur Weasley. She attended every Saturday dinner as a family member would. Ronald Weasley would not run her away from her second family and the only one that remembered her.

About two years after the wedding, Lavender burst through the front door of the Burrow and cheerfully announced that Ronald and she were having a child. Hermione didn't miss the way Ronald's eyes darted to her. The whole Weasley family seemed to be waiting for a reaction. Hermione simply forced a smile to match Lavender's genuine one.

"That's great," she had said. Her voice was soft. "Let me know when you find out the gender and we'll go shopping."

"And I'll help you decorate the room," Ginny added, not willing to leave Hermione the only one offering. Lavender had beamed and looked between the two girls before squealing and embracing them in a chokehold like hug.

Hermione forced another smile and returned the embrace awkwardly. The night had passed quickly. Hermione was grateful for she had an early flight in the morning.

Harry James Potter was hurting, really hurting. A constant in his life had just boarded a plane bound for New York. When his back was against the wall, she had been there; but when she needed him, he hadn't been able to help her.

With that thought still firmly in his mind, he spun on his heel and left Ronald Weasley standing there. Suddenly, Harry felt that he couldn't be in his brother-in-law's presence.

He held onto his anger as he entered the men's bathroom. London Heathrow Airport was the busiest airport Harry had ever been in, yet the bathrooms were always empty. With a quick turn, the man was gone.

Ginny Potter jumped as her husband appeared in front of her with a sharp pop. One look at his crumbled face told her that he had found Hermione. Ginny sighed.

"That bad huh?" Ginny asked. Harry shook his head. Ginny furrowed her brow in worry as her husband's face fell even harder. His lips tightened together and his nose was being to turn red. Her husband was fighting tears. Ginny set down the magazine she had been flipping through and stood. The moment her hand touched her husband's shoulder, Harry Potter fell to his knees before her. Ginny's blue eyes were wide as she looked down at her husband. "Harry? Harry, you're scaring me…" Scenario after scenario ran through her head. All of them ended in a funeral march.

Ginny Potter fought off her fear to the best of her ability and ran her hands through her husband's messy hair as he clung to her midsection with all his might. She could feel the tears soaking through her green blouse and knew that the fabric of her shirt would be badly stretched by the time Harry let go. Small tear tracks made their way down Ginny's face as her husband's sobs effectively broke her heart.

"She's gone…" He croaked once. "She's gone. She's gone." His broken repetition of the sentence caused Ginny's heart to ache more. Fear began to shake her hands as they roamed through his hair.

'Gone,' repeated over and over again in her head. Ginny swallowed before gathering the courage to ask the question she so desperately wanted to know the answer to.

"Where did she go, Harry?" Ginny had found long ago that keeping Harry talking was usually the only way to heal him. She waited patiently as he took a few deep breaths. Ginny helped him stand and together, they both sank onto the couch. All the while, her hands never left his upper arm.

"New York. She didn't say where she was going from there…I went to her apartment that morning. Why did I tell you that? You knew that already…" He shook his head. Ginny smiled softly, lovingly at her husband and waited for him to continue. "The landlady met me at the lobby. She said that Hermione had left the apartment building and went to the London Heathrow Airport."

"How did you figure out where she was going?" Ginny asked gently. Her own emotions had been shaken by the news of her 'sister' leaving so suddenly.

"I asked the woman at the desk. Ron had been searching the airport for her while I asked. I suppose he hoped to talk her out of leaving. I suppose I hoped that it would work."

"And I had hoped to give her the news in person…" Ginny mumbled. Harry looked over at his gentle eyed wife. The confusion on his face had her grinning, despite the sadness that coated the room. "Harry, you're a daddy."

Her reward was a blinding smile. For a moment, the pain they had felt ran from the room. Only to return minutes later, as if called back by Ginny's small whisper:

"I want to ask Hermione to be the Godmother…"

Hermione sighed and sank even deeper into the first class seat. The nearly empty room gave her a sense of comfort that she had been missing.

The flight, her leaving: it had all been prearranged. Half of her banking account had been converted into Muggle money and transferred to a bank in the states. That half of her banking account amounted to 23, 000 dollars. She had another thousand in one hundred bills in her pocket.

The trip had been planned thoroughly. She would go from the JFK International Airport in Queens, New York to Williamsburg International Airport in Newport, Virginia.

She would take a taxi to a car dealer lot in Newport and purchase a car. From there, she would drive to Quantico and buy a house with two bedrooms and one spacious bathroom there.

Hermione let a small smile drift onto her face before taking the blanket from the overhead compartment. She wrapped the navy blue cloth around her, set the seat back, and attempted sleep.

When sleep finally lulled her in its gentle arms, she dreamt not of the past or of the present but of the future she was so looking forward to that would rewrite her well laid plans.


	2. Chapter Two-Turbulence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, Fred lives. Lavender was attacked by Greyback but she survived, thanks to Hermione. I changed Hermione's birth year as well. Also, this story is set in season 2 of Criminal Minds.

Stripped Bare

Chapter Two-Turbulence

Hermione jumped awake as the plane bounced into the runway. The flight attendant that was just about to wake her jumped as well. The blonde smiled slightly at Hermione before turning to walk back down the aisle.

Years of traveling during the summer had schooled Hermione well in airplane travel. She waited patiently for the lead flight attendant to come on and tell everyone when it was safe to stand. A small smile graced her lips as she heard several thuds come for the neighboring compartments as the plane came to a complete stop. 'Inertia…how amusing…'

Unlike Harry and Ron, Hermione had gone on after the war settled and continued the Muggle part of her life. She had attended a university in London with false transcripts. During the summers of her Hogwarts years, she attended online classes once more providing false transcripts and using Polyjuice Potion to blend in with the other students-always under the same name, Jane Granger. She never changed her features too much. She only straightened her hair and changed a few of her features.

She had altered the Polyjuice Potion to give the drinker complete control of her or his form. She had chosen her mom's younger image to be. Her mother, thrilled that her little girl would be attending a Muggle college even if it were by the use of illegal magic, had eagerly consented.

While lost in her thoughts, Hermione neatly folded the blanket she had been using and set it back in the overhead compartment. Fully aware now, she pulled her suitcases from the rack and walked off of the plane.

Hermione's mind was set as she walked to the counter. The young woman behind the desk looked up at her expectantly. Her name tag said Sandy.

"What's the earliest time you have for Newport, Virginia?" Sandy looked at Hermione a moment, who simply looked back and then to the computer. As if catching her drift, the young woman instantly pounced on it. 'Surely, being from London isn't that amazing…'

"The first flight is around nine a.m. tomorrow. Would you like to buy a ticket now?" Sandy asked. Her dark red fingernails were clicking away at the keys.

"First class," Hermione demanded. And just like that, they were setting everything up. She paid the amount for the ticket, about 500 dollars. The whole process took only an hour.

Hermione stepped out onto the street. In a minute, she had a taxi cab flagged down and was sliding into the back seat with her two bags. The cabbie looked up at her through the mirror and asked where she was going.

"Hilton Garden Inn," she answered as she stacked her bags on top of one another. Without a word, the cabbie pulled away from the busy curb. Hermione studied the direction and miles taken. Mentally, she was adding up the price of the ride. As soon as the cabby pulled into the drive, Hermione handed him the money. The cabby's mouth fell slack at the exact change in his hand. He looked up toward the woman that was already walking away. He raised an aged hand and scratched the top of his head. The action upset his newspaper boy hat. The discomfort seemed to have jarred him from his confused state. The elderly man reset his cap and drove away from the hotel. Baffled that such a brain existed in one young woman.

Stripped Bare

Spencer Reid couldn't help the small shudder at the pictures that hung on the wall. Women in their area of Quantico were being hunted down simply for their looks and academic achievements.

His brown eyes scanned the pictures once more. The notes attached to the bottom of their pictures came from the UNSUB's journal entries and stated their grade point average and their IQ levels. Reid's eyes kept darting across them. He lifted a pen from the desk and began to circle the IQ only.

"Alright, we know he likes smart women. Like making the powerful feel vulnerable. All of these women had money," Morgan spouted. "What kind of man would be able to get this kind of information?"

"Banker, teacher…" Spencer named off a few while JJ stood from her seat. "And possibly a government official," he added as JJ came closer to him. Out of all the men on that list, the government official seemed more likely to all of them.

"What is he looking for?" JJ asked as she scanned the board herself. The pictures themselves couldn't hint to what were found at each crime scene. Rose petals, silk sheets, and empty wine glasses: it was a seduction. The only part that canceled out the romantic vibe was the game found at each one. It was a difficult IQ board game similar to Jeopardy.

"The perfect one," Spencer realized suddenly.

"So he finishes the night by playing Jeopardy?" Morgan asked from the table. "Some Casanova he is." Emily snickered lightly from the seat beside him.

"Well, the IQs keep getting higher and higher the more he strikes. It's likely that our UNSUB is extremely smart. The women he has chosen all have an above average IQ. The lowest IQ on this list is at 165; the highest is at 170."

"So, basically he's looking for the female version of Reid?" Morgan joked, earning a few smiles from his teammates.

"Basically," Reid answered. A sense of dread washed over the team. They weren't going to catch him then. In their minds, no one matched or came close to Spencer Reid. JJ tensed as a line of conversation with a past friend reached her.

Jane had given her a tour of her house when she came over once. The final room in the entire two story house was Hermione Granger's lilac and purple room. Her queen sized bed held a beautiful dark purple bedspread covered in light lilac flowers. Her pillows were a solid lilac.

It wasn't the room that really struck JJ as odd; it was the book variety the twelve year old had that really stood out. Three shelves lined the wall in front of her bathroom door. All were filled with a variety of subjects-chemistry and physics, classic novels and poems.

"Hermione's IQ is around 175…" It was ten years ago that the Jane Granger had told her those words. 'She's surely gotten smarter by now.'

"Since all of the women who didn't match up were murdered, what do you think will happen when he meets in perfect match?" Emily asked.

"Hopefully, she'll be smart enough to resist his advances," JJ drawled as she stepped away from the screen. She ignored the looks of her friends as she slipped out of the room. From the pictures on the Granger family mantel, JJ knew that Hermione Granger and her older sister fit the profile of the victims. With that in mind, she dialed Jane's number.

Hermione Granger jumped as "Jane Granger's" phone went off. Only one person called that phone: Jennifer Jareau, "Jane's" old college buddy. With a slight sigh, Hermione picked up the phone.

"JJ, what's up?" Hermione answered. A small smile curved her lips. While she heard her own voice, JJ was hearing a seriously altered version. "Jane's" voice was huskier than her own. She had charmed the phone to change the tone of her voice after JJ had requested they exchange numbers. After doing that, Hermione had bought her own phone.

"Where's your sister?" Hermione tilted her head at the question. Curiosity raged through her. In all of the conversations with "Jane", JJ had never sounded so panicked or so concerned for a girl she had only met a few times.

"She's in Queen's New York."

"Well tell her to stay there!" JJ demanded. Hermione's curiosity raged higher along with her eyebrows.

"She's probably already at the airport by now. Her plane leaves at nine." Hermione was, in fact, at the airport walking toward the terminal. "Hang on, I'll call her."

"Thank you," the moment the dial tone sounded in her ear JJ realized that she had forgotten to ask where the young woman was going. She suppressed the urge to smack herself with the phone in her hand.

"Everything okay out here?" Gideon asked as he poked his head through the door. JJ turned to him and plastered on a fake smile.

"An old college buddy of mine fits the profile of the victims. I was just calling to see if she was alright," JJ said as she walked back into the conference room.

"Well, is she?" Hotch asked as his media link said down into one of the plush chairs.

"She's fine. But her sister's in America…She just boarded a plane…" JJ shook her head and felt like punching herself again. "I forgot to ask where!"

"It's alright," Spencer consoled as he sank down in the chair across from her, "you're worried about your friend and her family."

"You said that they fit the profile," Hotch pointed out. JJ picked up on his silence instantly and began to elaborate.

"Jane's a really good friend of mine from college. Her younger sister should be around the age of those girls and you, Spence." JJ's brown eyes flicked upward to the board filled with the young women's horrified faces. The blonde dropped her head down and ran her fingers through her hair.

"You think she's the one he could be looking for," Morgan stated easily. JJ nodded with a heavy sigh.

"Her IQ level is five points underneath Spence's 187," JJ stated. It was all she had to say. The team's mouths seemed to fall open in union. Despite the rarity and comedy this sight gave off, JJ couldn't smile. "She's the closest thing to his perfect he'll ever get…"

"Where would she go?" Gideon asked, sinking down in a chair beside from JJ. The young woman sighed and shook her head.

In her silence, Hotch and Gideon shared a look. The whole team had been pulled out of their beds on a Saturday at nine a.m. to work on this case. This young woman wherever she was headed could be their break in the case.

Just as Gideon was about to press for answers, JJ raised her head and spoke the one sentence that would deflate the whole team: "I don't know."

Stripped Bare

Hermione Granger slid deeper underneath the blanket as she cast a silencing and illusionary charm. To any flight attendant or passenger, Hermione would appear to be sleeping. She took "Jane's" phone from her pocket and readied to dial the number.

The twenty-two year old took four calming breathes and dialed. Her act was firmly in place by the time JJ picked up.

"Hey, is it alright if I put you on speaker?"

"Of course," she answered. Hermione waited as the shuffling of papers being moved out of the way reached her and waited for someone to speak.

"Miss. Granger, this is Agent Hotchner with the FBI," Hotch spoke into the phone. Hermione blinked slightly in shock.

"Hello," Hermione spoke politely, while picking nervously at the helm of the blanket.

"Do you have any idea as to where your sister may be going?" Hotch asked. Hermione smiled in respect for his straight forward attitude.

"When I couldn't catch her at the airport, I went to the front desk. She's heading your way, JJ," Hermione said. "Quantico, Virginia."

Stripped Bare

A nearly eerie silence fell over the room for a moment as the words sank in. JJ couldn't really formulate a sentence without getting confused, but attempts were vocalized. The blonde couldn't help but smile at the throaty laugh her attempts received from Jane Granger.

"Why?" She asked finally.

"That is something you will have to ask her yourself," Jane answered. JJ could practically hear the shrug from over the line.

"Will you call her and let her know that we'll be waiting at the airport?" Hotch spoke finally. Hermione smiled.

"Yes, sir," Hermione stated, "I'll let her know as soon as I can to be waiting."

"Thank you, miss. We'll let you get to it then," Hermione couldn't help but smile; it seemed that goodbyes were not Hotchner's front.

"Goodbye," Hermione stated before snapping the phone closed. She laid herself in the position of her mirage and disarmed the charms. This time, her sleep would not be an illusion.

Stripped Bare

Morgan, Emily, Garcia, and Reid all piled into the same van and left for Newport. Hotch turned away from the window and looked back at the filled board. The faces of those women almost made him violently ill. As he stared, he was oblivious to Gideon as he re-entered the room.

"You think she could be the break we've been needing?" Gideon asked, startling Hotch. The lawyer looked over at his friend.

"I hope so, Gideon…" Hotch whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Stripped Bare

Chapter Three

Spencer walked around the packed airport. The people passing quickly moved out of his way; each man and woman in the crowd knew what that look meant: he was looking for someone. Then, as the final row of fell away, he saw her. For a moment, he stood taking in her figure as she stood on her tiptoes to peer over the crowd. A small smile tilted his lips. She was searching for them as hard as they were her. With that in mind, Spencer stepped forward.

"Miss. Granger?" He asked as he maneuvered through the crowd. She spun around quickly, startling the agent. He quickly found himself staring into deep amber eyes. The beautiful orbs were suspicious as she stared up at him. Spencer shifted awkwardly. She hitched one of the bags higher up her shoulder. Spencer glanced down at her loaded state and grimaced. "Do you want me to carry something for you?" He asked.

"I can manage…" She spoke icily. Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, and then he understood: she didn't know who he was.

"Oh! Forgive me, I'm Doctor Reid with the FBI. Your sister said we were coming?" Recognition lit her face. She blushed hotly.

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione exclaimed. Spencer smiled slightly at her flustered expression.

"It's alright," Spencer stated. He motioned toward her bag. She moved to slip it from her shoulder when a man crashed into the cart of suitcases. The bag dropped from her hand with a solid thud. The resounding sound made her whole body jerk then tense. Spencer's eyebrows furrowed as he recognized the signs. 'She has PTSD…' He realized, 'but why?'

He began to pay closer attention to the woman as she calmed herself down. His eyes caught the faint line of a scar across her neck. A fine blade had slid across the delicate skin there. His eyes traveled the dipping motion of her button up shirt and followed the way the chest fell and rose with her counted breathes. He tore his eyes back upward. Spencer risked a glance at her eyes. He was relieved to find them closed. He suppressed outward emotion as her amber eyes slowly opened. Her eyebrows were furrowed together in waning panic. A blush had lit her face again. Embarrassment was clear in her stance.

"I'm sort of confused. You called yourself a doctor, but you don't look much older than me," she commented as Spencer finally bent to pick up her bag. He knew that she was deflecting what happened, not dealing with it as she should, but said nothing.

"I'm not," he answered, humoring her. "I'm twenty-five." He glanced over at her.

"What are your degrees in?" She asked suddenly.

"I have three in Chemistry, Mathematics, and Engineering and two bachelors in Psychology and Sociology," Spencer stated.

"Ah, Reid, no bragging!" Came the loud voice of a large black man. Hermione fought the initial reaction she had to loud sounds and defended the man beside her before he could open his mouth.

"He wasn't bragging. I asked," Morgan's eyebrows rose at the young woman standing beside Reid. He assumed she was Hermione Granger, but he was momentarily staggered by the look in her amber eyes: anger. "Forgive me for bragging, but I have two in Chemistry and Engineering and two bachelors in Criminal Justice and Psychology." Morgan held his hands up at her in surrender, suddenly understanding.

"I wasn't bullying him. I was just…" 'Teasing him…because that would sound great…' He thought as he stared at the girl. He watched a blush light her face. Then her sentence sunk in. 'Wow…'

"I'm guessing he's one of yours?" Hermione mumbled. Spencer nodded. Morgan noticed the slight smile on his friend's lips.

"This is Agent Derek Morgan," Spencer explained, looking down at her.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I just don't like it when people are ridiculed for being smart. You just…reminded me of someone…" Spencer looked away from the small woman and focused his attention on his partner. Spencer attempted to keep his laughter in. Morgan looked thoroughly ashamed and shocked. Thankfully, Spencer wouldn't have to cover for him again, because Morgan smiled brightly at her.

"No worries, but keep doing that and people may think you've got a crush on Boy Wonder," Morgan teased. Hermione recognized it as that and kept her sharp tongue quiet.

"I can relate," Hermione stated. She flicked her hair back off of her face with one hand. Spencer watched Morgan's eyes widen as he spotted the scar.

'What the he-' Morgan turned his head at the sound of running feet.

"There you guys are!" Penelope Garcia cried as she found her boys. Emily rushed behind her, attempting to catch up. She spotted the back of a woman and knew that they had found the one they were looking for. At the sound of her voice, the slender back turned. "I'm Penelope Garcia," she introduced as she neared the woman. She was graced with a very pretty smile.

"And I'm Emily Prentiss," the dark headed woman introduced herself. Emily was momentarily surprised by the woman's appearance. She looked every part of comfortable in a men's button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and blue jeans. Her hair hung loose around her neck. This Hermione Granger looked different from the Hermione Granger in the picture they had seen.

"Hermione Granger," she introduced. Garcia smiled at the polite tone she used and stood next to Morgan.

"Well, my little stud muffins, let's get this show on the road," Garcia exclaimed as she touched Morgan's shoulder. The group turned around, but not before Morgan caught Hermione's startled face.

"Stud muffin?" She questioned. Morgan burst into laughter while Spencer only shook his head with a small grin.

"She takes some getting used to," Emily reassured, "but once you do, she's harmless." Hermione nodded, still looking at the back of Garcia's head.

Stripped Bare

"Oh, this is lovely!" Julie Wharton cried as she looked around her apartment. Rose petals covered the carpet at the foot of the couch and were even sprinkled on the white cushions. Beside the white couch sat her boyfriend's bag. She grimaced as she looked at the tattered leather thing. She moved to pick it up when soft music, Beethoven, distracted her. The soothing melodies were coming from her stereo speakers. Her heart warmed suddenly at the man who knew everything about her.

Her boyfriend of two weeks had kicked her out of her apartment for a few hours and told her to come back at five. It was now five and here she was. She followed the sounds of clicking glass and found him standing at her counter. He looked up as she entered; his startlingly blue eyes stared into her brown.

"Hope you like Chamonix," he said as soon as he saw her.

"Mm, a man after my heart!" She exclaimed pleasantly. He smiled charmingly at her and poured the dark liquid into each wine glass while she looked up at him.

Stripped Bare

Spencer held the BAU's door open for her. Hermione smiled up at him and allowed him to escort her inside. The rest of the group followed; all were sharing slight smiles.

'Maybe, just maybe, Reid's found someone that would return his interest…' Emily thought as she watched the duo's backs as they walked toward the conference room. Hotchner and Gideon were waiting on the small British woman.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger," she greeted the moment she stepped foot inside the room. The agents behind her shared various looks. Gideon and Hotch both smiled and introduced themselves.

Hermione's eyes wandered over to the board in the middle of the wall. The women on the pictures stared back at her with horrified expressions. The team was watching her every move, she knew. But she couldn't act surprised or even shocked by what she had seen, just like they couldn't ignore the faint scar across her neck.

Fleur hadn't been able to erase the scar for her healing wasn't at that high of a level. Nor had she been able to erase the "MUDBLOOD" from her wrist. Hermione had it covered at the moment with a concealment charm; it would earn too many questions from Muggles.

Hermione's eyes continued to roam the board. She looked down at the journal entries from the killer and furrowed her brow. The agents in the room looked at one another as she stepped closer to it. Her hand rose to her neck as she glanced at the pictures then lower to the entries.

"He was angry when he wrote these," she stated after only a few seconds. Spencer and Morgan looked over at one another. "The penmanship is heavy. He almost ripped the paper here…" She gently pointed toward the second victim's entry. "The penmanship gets heavier and the paper thicker…" Her words now had all of the agents' attention. While all of the agents knew this, for Spencer had spotted it, they were unnerved by how quickly she figured it out.

"We believe he's searching for the perfect one, his match if you will," Spencer stated after her pause.

"And you/we believe he's found it in me/you." They stated at the same time. The remaining agents raised their eyebrows while Spencer blinked in shock. Hermione looked away from the Doctor's shocked eyes and looked around the room. A small blush tinted her cheeks when she realized that all of their eyes were focused on her.

"So, you see now why I was concerned?" JJ asked the room.

Stripped Bare

Julie's body lay at the foot of the couch, blood seeping from a wound in her chest. The UNSUB's chest shook in his anger.

"You got the question wrong!" He shouted angrily. "It was the easiest question!" He raged as he stopped over to her immobile form. With a savage yank, he pulled the piece of paper from the notebook he carried. With a scowl on his face, he began to scribble the words.

"Julie Wharton, so attention starved, so desperate that she took the first man that showed her attention. How pathetic. She acts like she knows everything! She knows nothing! Couldn't even get past the first question…" It was just the beginning of his angry, psychotic letter…

Stripped Bare

The agents stared at Hermione as she looked at the pictures. They were slowly seeing more and more of the brilliance that JJ was talking about the more she spoke. She motioned toward one of the letters.

"Have you ever considered that the…" Hermione motioned around in the empty air trying to find the word in her mind that would suit the killer. Spencer saw her distress.

"UNSUB," Spencer supplied. The young man was still slightly in shock by the knack she showed for this line of work as were the rest of the agents in the room. Hermione smiled at him and continued on.

"That the UNSUB isn't as smart as you think? That he's just played the game enough to know the answers?" Heads tilted around the room.

"How did you know-" Gideon started. Hermione cut him off.

"He mentions a question, a game in each of his letters," she turned and pointed a picture, "and here, there's the blue of a Jeopardy box in the background of the picture."

"Okay…" Garcia drawled, "She scares me a little more than you do, Spencer…" Hermione blushed brightly and looked away from the group.

"She means it as a compliment…I think," Spencer reassured. Hermione rewarded his efforts with another one of her smiles. Spencer was momentarily taken by it.

"I got a little carried away…" She muttered with a slight shrug. "It happens a lot." She looked over at the eldest of the group. "Do you have any idea where I could get a good car? I already have a house purchased and furnished; I just need a way to get to it."

"Yeah, I'll take you," Gideon promised. Hermione smiled at the man and went to lift her bags again. Spencer beat her to it.

"To give your back a break…" He explained. Hermione nodded. She believed his reason despite the blush on his cheeks. Hermione couldn't help the smile that stretched across her face nor could the help the way her heart pounded a rhythm in her chest as Spencer returned her smile timidly.

"And how did Jane not know where you were going again?" JJ asked, pulling her second long gaze from Spencer. The blonde was smiling from ear to ear.

"She and I don't really talk much," Hermione explained, embarrassed yet thankful. "Jane's in New York; I was in England."

Stripped Bare

Gracie Wharton unlocked the door to the room she had her sister shared. She pushed open the wooden door and recoiled in horror.

"JULIE!" She screamed. She dared not touch her older sister; instead, she darted to the phone and dialed 911. "Hello, my sister's been murdered!" She was in hysterics. "There are rose petals everywhere…A huge hole…is in her chest…"

"Ma'am, ma'am, please call down."

"DON'T TELL ME TO FUCKING CALM DOWN!"


	4. Chapter 4

Stripped Bare

Chapter Four

Gideon and Hermione sat side by side in the van as he drove her to the car dealer lot. The silence between the two hung comfortably in the air. Her bags that Spencer had loaded in the back of the van took up one whole seat.

"Thank you for giving me a ride," Hermione muttered thankfully. Gideon smiled over at her. He couldn't get over just how much the girl beside him reminded him of Spencer, but then again she was different from him: more confident and fiery at the drop of a hat.

"It was no trouble at all," Gideon promised. Once more the two of them fell silent. Hermione became lost in her scattered thoughts: Spencer, the case, Harry, Ron, how everyone was handling the move she made, the UNSUB, then back to Spencer.

'He's so much like me…I never thought I'd find anyone that could keep up with my train of thought but… "And you/we believe he's found it in me/you." We ran on just about the same wavelength then,' Hermione thought. A loud beeping noise pulled Hermione and Gideon from their thoughts.

"Can you get that?" Gideon asked. Hermione reached across the seat and plucked the man's pager from his belt loop.

"911," Hermione muttered, "there's been another murder." The confidence in her tone made him look over. He knew what those words meant and it was apparent now that so did she. Gideon turned the car around without a thought.

"I'll take you to the car dealer after this," he stated. Hermione shook her head.

"It's alright, Agent Gideon, I suddenly don't feel like going…" Gideon glanced over at her and then back at the road. Her amber eyes were thoughtful and calculating. He shook the look out of his mind and asked:

"What was the address to your house here?" Hermione told him the directions. Gideon fought off a laugh; her new home was near Spencer's apartment in Van Ness. They quickly pulled into her drive. He helped her get her things into the house and then he was gone.

Stripped Bare

Once Spencer, Hermione, and Gideon exited the room, Emily, JJ, and Garcia turned to one another. Garcia let out a small squeal. (Gideon had taken Hermione to the car lot and Spencer had gone straight to his desk.)

"How perfect would they be?!" She gushed. Emily stayed silent as JJ and Garcia talked about the potential they would have as a couple.

"Haven't you forgotten one little problem?" Emily asked. Both blondes turned to her. "The two hardly know one another and you two are already planning the color schemes of the wedding!" JJ looked out the window to see if Spencer was listening. He wasn't. Instead, he was reading a thick book.

"Well, we'll just put them in positions where they have to get to know one another!" Garcia stated, pulling JJ back into the room. "Come on, Em, you know you want this too! How many people walk in here that can keep up with Spencer? And you saw the look on her face when they spoke together, major cuteness by the way, she was shocked. I'm guessing it's the same with her!"

"Of course, I want Spencer to be happy-" Emily cut her sentence short as Gideon and Hermione burst through the front doors of the BAU. Gideon's mouth was moving. From the way every agent moved to stand, they knew: another murder had been committed. Garcia moved out of the way of the agents and returned to her computer lab.

The jovial atmosphere of earlier had been removed, now only a serious air remained as they gathered their things and prepared to leave for the crime scene.

Stripped Bare

Hermione sighed and sagged against the front door. She looked down at her bags.

'Muggle way or witch way?' Hermione wondered as she looked around. Her wand felt hot against the base of her hand, as if demanding to be used. 'I'm surrounded by Muggles who wouldn't understand what they were seeing…I'm surrounded by FBI agents who believe I'm a future victim simply because I moved here—' A devious idea came to her. A smile stretched her lips. She quickly took her phone from her pocket and dialed JJ's familiar number.

"JJ, here," the blonde FBI agent greeted as she spun around in the chair.

"When you give your update on the case, tell them that the FBI has called in help," JJ opened her mouth to protest, "Wait, hear me out." Hermione stated. "He wants his perfect one and we have no idea how he finds them, so bring her to him."

"You're really confident about this, aren't you?" JJ asked.

"Hey, a few hours ago, you were so confident that I was his perfect one that you called my sister freaking the heck out. Well, I'm just suggesting that we do what we can to hurry this case along. Come on, JJ, he won't be able to resist!" Hermione stressed. JJ bit into her lip and shook her head.

"I'll ask," JJ sighed. Hermione sighed in return, understanding that it was all she would get from the media link.

"Thanks, JJ," Hermione stated. JJ's voice stopped her mid hang up.

"What would I tell them if he agrees?"

"You're the one who knows how to stir the media the best. Work your magic, JJ," Hermione stated. "If you give him the bait, he wouldn't be able to resist biting." JJ groaned at the comparison. Hermione's laughter filled the other line before it went dead.

JJ sighed and leaned back against the chair. She ran a hand through her hair. Even she couldn't deny that her idea made sense. Women were dying every week and so far they had nothing on him but a few letters…

Stripped Bare

The story played bright and early the next morning. The UNSUB leaned forward as the blonde on the television spoke of the help they had called in. The IQ level repeated again and again in his head: 182. Nearly genius. He smiled.

"She's prefect…" He cooed.

Stripped Bare

"I hope your girl knows what she's getting into, JJ," Hotch stated as he set his coffee down on the table, "because I sure as hell don't know what she was thinking…"

"She might be our only shot at catching this guy," JJ stated, "She's exactly his M.O. As she put it, he's not going to be able to resist. Her connection with the FBI should make her all the more irresistible to him." Spencer couldn't help but agree with his friend, but yet he was angry at the same time.

He couldn't shake the fire in her amber eyes as she stood up for him: "He wasn't bragging. I asked." Spencer wasn't used to being defended and it was refreshing that she would do it for him; then, it was the two doctorates in Chemistry and Engineering and two bachelors in Criminal Justice and Psychology that attracted his attention. She enjoyed knowledge, learning. She could keep up with him.

It was a rarity he wasn't ready to lose.

Stripped Bare

Hermione propped herself up on the pillows of her bed and opened the aged book. Sigmund Freud's theories stared up at her. She shook her head and smiled lightly.

'No matter how deranged many of his theories were, he is makes for an interesting subject.' Hermione admitted as she flipped the pages to her marker. The television was on and the volume lowered just enough to be in the background and not distract her.

The news broadcast had already passed with Hermione as an avid listener. A small smile curved to her lips as she recalled JJ's praise. She shook her head. Hermione took relief in knowing that if the UNSUB was now after her, then at least now he wouldn't be hunting any other poor woman. After all, she wasn't as defenseless. Her wand sparked as if in agreement.


	5. Chapter 5

Stripped Bare

Chapter Five

The bed springs creaked as Hermione rolled over. She sat up in bed. The book she had been reading made a harsh thud at impact. She could still hear the tones of a journalist droning on and on about the recent case, but knew by the sinking sun that she had been asleep for a while.

"That wraps it up for the news at six," the reporter stated in a false cheery tone. Hermione shrugged and stretched. As she lowered her arms, her eyes caught something white out of the corner of her eye. Her amber eyes widened in horror as she saw what lay on her pillow. A drawing of her sleeping and a single red rose. A small scream threatened to rip itself from her lips as she jerked her cellphone from the table.

"The son of a bitch was in my house!" The cell phone nearly fell from JJ's hand at her friend's angry greeting. JJ silently put it on speaker while rubbing her sore ear. The agents in the room were staring at her. "He was in my house. Near my fucking bed!"

"How do you know?" JJ asked impulsively.

"Because he left something behind," Hermione spoke disgustedly.

"Don't touch anything," Gideon demanded, "we'll be there soon." His tone had started out slightly hard, but had softened at his reassurance. The agents in the room looked at one another. JJ wore a soft smile.

"Yeah, okay…" Hermione sighed. "See you soon," the dial tone greeted them.

Hermione stood slowly from her bed and grabbed her wand from the drawer. Her heart was pounding. With a slight shiver of fear, Hermione placed her hand on the left side of her bed. She jerked it back quickly. It was warm. Hermione swallowed.

'He wasn't just near it…he was in it!' Hermione forced down her panic and walked quietly around her room. Her senses were on high alert. Every nerve ending in her body was alive. It was a feeling she had forgotten all about: adrenaline. Her hand tightened over her wand as she stepped out into the hallway. With a single flick of her wrist, every light in the house was on. He had nowhere to hide if he was still inside.

Stripped Bare

The team piled in the van and headed toward Hermione's home. Spencer couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the location she had chosen. His apartment was just a few blocks from here. They pulled into the drive to see every light in the house on. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Morgan couldn't help but smile.

The agents exited the van at once. Spencer was momentarily baffled at the team's behavior. It was obvious that JJ cared for the woman inside the home and, in extension, the team cared. During his thought process, the team and he had made their way up to the door. Morgan knocked. Instantly, it was opened.

Hermione Granger stood before them. Her face was pale and the scars on her body were more visible due to the lack of clothing. She wore a pair of denim shorts and a white tank top. She opened the door wider to admit them entrance. The wider it opened, the more they saw of a metal baseball bat clutched in her right hand-a clever cloaking for her wand once Muggles stepped on the premise. It would return to its original form once they were gone. The only way to remove the jinx is if she were to preform magic in front of them.

"Where is it?" Gideon asked instantly, ignoring the heavy bat in her hand.

"My bedroom," she muttered. "He wasn't just near my bed, Agent Gideon…" She whispered as they walked down the hall toward her bedroom. "He was in it." She pushed the door open to her bedroom and motioned for them to go inside. Spencer stood in the hallway for a moment to let the others in. Hermione was looking away from him, watching as Emily went about her work. The flash of the camera lit up the dark purple walls of her bedroom.

"Are you going to be alright?" Spencer asked, pulling Hermione's attention away from the agents as they worked. She nodded and folded her arms around her waist tightly. Spencer furrowed his brow. "Then why do I not believe you."

"How could I have missed him?" Hermione demanded softly. "How could I have not known? I'm a generally light sleeper. Any movement or shift in the mattress should have woken me up! How could this bastard have gotten into my house, in my bed and I not know about it?!"

"Do you have an alarm system?" Spencer asked as he moved to lean against the wall. Hermione shook her head and leaned it against the wall.

"I didn't have time to get it installed," Spencer noticed that she never let go of the bat in her hand. Her knuckles were turning white. Spencer stepped closer to her. Her amber eyes looked upward at him. Spencer smiled softly and touched the bat in her hand. Her grip tightened around it instinctively.

"It's alright," he promised. Hermione wanted so badly to believe him. "I believe what you were experiencing was a severe case of jet lag. You traveled from England, to New York, then to here. Anyone would sleep well that first night," he attempted to soothe. He furrowed his eyebrow again. Hermione smiled softly up at him.

"A conversational tone isn't one of your strong points," Hermione stated. Her grip loosened on the bat slightly. Spencer slowly slipped the heavy metal bat from her hand. His hand accidentally brushed hers. Both adults froze at the sharp tingle that shot up their arm. Spencer shook himself out of the confusion first and turned to prop the bat up against the wall. He turned back to her. "Would any of you like anything to drink?" Hermione asked loud enough for the agents inside of her room to hear.

"Sure," Morgan called back, earning a sharp elbow in the stomach by Emily. "What?"

"That is so unprofessional!" Emily scolded. Morgan rolled his eyes.

"This…situation is unprofessional!" Morgan returned with a wave of his large arm. The rest of the agents couldn't help but agree. There had never been a case that felt so personal. It wasn't just their loyalty to JJ or concern for her feelings if anything were to happen to the woman standing outside of the room, but it was also had something to do with Spencer Reid. The agents hadn't missed the slight look of worry that had passed over the Doctor's face at Hermione's frantic phone call nor did they miss the interaction between the two geniuses in the hallway. There was an attraction there. Hermione Granger was slowly becoming an important part of their team.

Spencer split off from her as she walked toward the kitchen. He decided to search the house just in case. He could hear the small clings of glasses hitting the counter-top as he walked.

'Shock is a normal side effect for someone who's just experienced what she has…so why isn't she showing any of those signs?' His mind flashed back to the scars they had seen on her when she opened the door. 'She expressed only some fear…the rest was anger at being evaded…' The house was moderately small. Two bedrooms, one very spacious bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room composed Hermione Granger's house.

Hermione met him in the living room. She handed the glass of water to him with her left hand. His eyes widened as he took the cold glass from her. On her wrist lay the words "MUDBLOOD" carved deep. Gently, he reached forward and grabbed the wrist she attempted to hide. He felt her jerk at the gentle touch. He glanced upward. She met his stare head on. Spencer smiled softly and looked back down.

"What…"

"Prejudice…" Hermione stated, softly. Spencer frowned at the explanation before he could ask what she meant Gideon and the team left Hermione's bedroom. She gently pulled her wrist out of his grip.

"Do you have anyone you could stay with until all of this blows over?" He asked. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Why would I want to do that?" Hermione placed a hand on her hip.

"He's already proven that he could slip past you!" JJ exclaimed. This incident hit a little too close to home for her. "He's toying with you…"

"The rose and the drawing in his mind it's a courtship," Hermione said, causing everyone to pause. Gideon had thought of that, but hadn't wanted to say it.

"Alright," Gideon sighed, "one of our agents is going to stay here tonight." Hermione opened her mouth to protest. Gideon shot her a sharp look. "It's either one of them stay or we bug your house." Hermione closed her mouth quickly. "Now, who will it be?"

The agents looked around the room while Hermione thought hard on a way to avoid it.

"How will you solve this investigation if I'm being babysat?" Hermione demanded. "He wants me now if that in there is any indication," she motioned toward the bag in Morgan's hand.

"I won't have you in any danger. My agents are fully capable of taking care of themselves," Gideon praised. Hermione's eyes narrowed. While Spencer was proud of the praise, he couldn't help but wince at the wording of that sentence.

"And I'm not?" She demanded. Emily tried to keep the smile off of her face at the uncomfortable look that suddenly drifted over their team leader's face. Morgan attempted to act as though he hadn't heard anything, but the twitch of his cheeks spoke his amusement.

The older man was very aware that he had just walked into dangerous waters. Power seemed to suddenly pulse from the British woman and she seemed half her height. For a moment, Gideon believed that she could tangle with Morgan and come out the victor.

"You are the main link to this guy. If anything, an FBI agent staying with you will make him clumsy," Gideon changed tactics. Hermione raised her eyebrows; her mouth was still set in a hard line. Gideon knew he had her. She knew he had her. There would be no more resistance. Gideon forced himself not to smile. "I'll send an agent over later. I doubt he'll be back tonight." The team took that as a dismissal. They started toward the door along with Gideon.

"He'll be leaving in a body bag in he tries it again…" Hermione growled. The team looked toward one another at her vocalized anger. Morgan grinned from ear to ear as the team climbed into the van. His grin was missed by Gideon as was his next whisper:

"For a moment there, I thought Gideon was afraid!" Spencer laughed. Gideon heard it. He glanced upward in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of her drive.

"You'll be the one staying with her, Reid," Gideon stated. Morgan laughed aloud. Spencer shoved his shoulder. Emily and JJ looked at one another over the seat, then back to Gideon.

"Sir, are you sure that's wise?" Emily asked. Spencer's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He was ignored.

"She won't hurt him," Gideon reassured, knowing full well that's not what the girls meant. If he hadn't JJ's grumble in the back seat would have alerted him:

"That's not what we're worried about…" Spencer only became more confused as Morgan laughed. Gideon couldn't help but grin before returning his eyes back to the darkened road.

Back in the house, Hermione stood in the middle of the living room gathering her thoughts. Finally, she consented and sighed.

"I suppose I should set up the guest room then…" Hermione grabbed her fallen wand and walked toward her second room. The room was empty and the walls were bare. When she had first began designing the house and moving everything inside of it, she had left the room empty. She wanted so badly to make it a study, but she decided to add it to the rather spacious living room.

Hermione circled what would be the guest room with a speculative expression. Her eyes lit up as she decided on the color scheme. She was about to use her wand, but then recalled that Spencer had checked this room. When he had the walls had been white and the room empty. She pouted and conjured a bucket of baby blue paint and some brushes.

'Muggle way it is then…' Hermione thought. She flicked her wrist and the radio in the living room clicked on. The CD she had left in the drive when she moved began. "More of You" by MoZella came through the speakers as she popped open the paint and conjured white sheets and a stool to stand on. They fell onto the floor gracefully. With a small smile, she dipped her brush in the paint and stepped up on the stool.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"It's not that hard to paint," her father stated as he grabbed her hand. He guided the brush for her. Purple paint left a solid streak on the pink wall. She beamed over her shoulder at her father. Her mother stood in the corner with her own paint brush smiling softly at her family.

"Thanks, daddy!" Hermione exclaimed happily. Her father smiled and back off. Hermione painted the way he had shown her; her movements slow and calculated. John Granger smiled as he watched his daughter.

"She's a chip off the old block, huh, sweetie?" Helen asked. John looked over at his wife and smiled softly, unaware that his daughter was watching the interaction through the glass of the reflective window.

"A real natural…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione blinked in shock as a saline tear smacked the white sheet at her feet. Her strokes didn't stop as she reached up with her other hand and wiped the tear away.

Hermione hadn't gone and gotten her family from Australia. She had tried, but they had seemed so happy. They had no children.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why did mom and dad get married?" Hermione asked her grandmother once at a family reunion.

"Because you came along," her grandmother had stated. Her mother had overheard.

"Mother!" Hermione felt her mother's hand land on her shoulders, but she couldn't move. She had heard the words mumbled around the family reunions, but had believed her parents were in love before she was even planned. The blunt statement brought her world off its axis.

It was the last family reunion the three Grangers ever attended.

They had no children and were still married.

"I can't do it anymore, John!" Hermione overheard her mother holler. She winced and buried deeper inside her purple covers as she attempted to shut their angry words out. Ever since she had started to go to Hogwarts the tension level in the house seemed to rise to its boiling point. The last day of summer, it would explode along with many things in Hermione Granger's childhood room.

Her parents would only stop fighting when the house began to shake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione Granger angrily wiped her tears away and attempted to beat the memories away.

'Up, down, up, down,' she repeated in her head as she focused on the motion of the brush.


	6. Chapter 6

Stripped Bare

Chapter Six

Spencer Reid stood outside Hermione Granger's home with both of his bags thrown over one shoulder. He frowned as he noticed that his hands were slightly shaking. He withdrew his hand from the wood and clenched his fist tightly. 'What on earth is wrong with me?' He wondered. 'It's the same as Lilah.' The image of Hermione and him kissing as Lilah and he had in the pool flashed into his mind and caused him to shudder lightly with something he now knew as want. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. 'Alright, not like Lilah. I'm just here to protect her…' Still, he couldn't shake the emotion he felt he should not be having.

Hermione had heard the car door slam and had caught sight of Doctor Spencer Reid at her doorstep, but she couldn't open the door. Something about being alone with this particular man unnerved her; if it had been Derek Morgan she would have been fine. Him, she was confident she wouldn't feel anything for-ever. Spencer Reid was dangerous in that he made her feel positive emotions; he made her forget her pain at Ron's betrayal, her hurt, and her anger; he made her want to be the way she used to be: free of scars, beautiful.

Finally, he knocked on the door and, finally, Hermione opened it.

"Hey," Hermione greeted as she opened the door wider to allow him entrance. "I don't have the guest room ready," Hermione stated, "I'm sorry, you'll have to sleep on the couch."

"Oh, that's fine," Spencer reassured. The smell of ammonia hit him once he stepped fully into the comfortable looking home. He coughed. Hermione turned and looked at him. She wore a soft, apologetic smile.

"Even opening the windows doesn't help sometimes…" Spencer nodded.

"You need help?" He offered, not yet wanting to sleep. His answer was a brilliant smile that momentarily stripped him of all defenses. He was sure that he looked like a complete idiot.

"That would be lovely!" Hermione exclaimed. "But you might want to roll your sleeves up…" With those final words, she turned toward the hallway; a small amused smile gracing her delicate features. Spencer followed behind her rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. A snort filled the hallway as he ran into the wall.

"You didn't see that…" He mumbled. Hermione's laughter filled the hall.

"Oh, I so did!" Spencer glared unthreateningly at the back of the laughing woman as she entered the guest room. He could see that the floor had been covered in white sheets. The baseball he had removed from her hand earlier lay on the floor before one white wall along with the pack of brushes and rollers. Spencer lifted his own roller and dipped it into the baby blue paint. He had just put the blue roller to the wall when Hermione spoke, "What do you think of the UNSUB?"

Spencer continued to paint while he thought of his answer. The profiler couldn't help but be thankful for the silence she granted him.

"He's your typical sociopath," Spencer answered finally, finding no other way to describe him. "He craves attention-"

"And his victims more than likely mimic the form of someone he once loved like a mother or a friend or possibly a woman that he felt jaded him somehow." Spencer glanced over at Hermione with a small smile. She wore her own smile, but still continued to paint in even strokes.

"His killings hint to severe physical aggression. The women are stabbed nearly twenty times repeatedly in the same place-"

"He more than likely can't hold down a steady job because of his aggressive behavior," Hermione stated, "he can't sustain relationships."

"And has no regret for his actions," Spencer added.

"He appears to others as friendly and considerate when really he has no regard for their feelings or rights," they spoke together. At that, they both turned to face one another. Spencer took out his phone and dialed Gideon's number.

"Gideon, I think we might have a complete profile on the UNSUB," Hermione watched Spencer out of the corner of her eye as she capped the paint to it from drying. "We'll be there," Spencer promised before snapping his phone closed. "They're still at the station. Get on something warm." Hermione nodded; she bent to pick up the fallen brush and paint roller, but Spencer beat her to it. "I'll put these in the bathtub." He offered. Hermione nodded.

"Thank you," Spencer smiled in answer and watched as Hermione jogged from the room. He followed her steps then, but this time into the bathroom. He ran a little bit of water and set the roller and brush in it. He dried his hands on the light blue towel hanging from the rounded rack. He looped it back onto it and stood. He jumped as he caught sight of Hermione's tennis shoes. He glanced up at her.

Instead of the shorts and tank top she had been wearing, she had slipped into a red and gold sweater and a pair of jeans.

"Ready to go?" He asked. If he had looked in the guest room, he would have noticed that the metal baseball bat was gone. It was now in the shape of a stick. Hermione's wand was hanging from a hostler on her thigh. The cloaking spell hid it well and made it so that the wood or leather left no indention on her jeans no matter the movement she made.

"Yeah," she answered.

Stripped Bare

Hermione and Reid stood before the team not minutes later. Reid had explained what they had come up with rather quickly and Hermione had written it down.

"The UNSUB more than likely developed these tendencies in early childhood."

"He could have a history of drug abuse or alcoholism to curb his feelings of inferiority," Hermione added. The team couldn't seem to figure out who to look at. Where Spencer stopped, Hermione began.

"They hardly ever see it fit to seek out help," Spencer ended.

"The journal entries," Hermione tapped the board with her pen, "are probably his way of talking it out. I am willing to bet that he talked to his victims about his problems before he killed them. Their panic was probably the reason they missed the questions in the first place." Hermione's statement seemed to conclude the profile.

"You two are frightening, you know that? Brilliant…but frightening," Morgan stated. Hermione laughed at the familiarity of the statement while Spencer just smiled.

"This is why I made him stay with her," Gideon stated, motioning toward Spencer and Hermione. "We needed a complete profile and together I knew they would find it." Hermione tore the page from the notebook and handed it to Gideon. He looked up at her.

"You have to present your profile before the police force right? This is in case you forget anything," Gideon smiled and took the warm page from her hand. Morgan's wide eyed expression caused her to laugh and Spencer to smile again. "You two should probably head home." Gideon dismissed. Hermione nodded while Spencer packed up his case.

"Goodnight, you two!" Morgan called after them sweetly. Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. Spencer was tempted to flip Morgan the bird as he walked away, but suppressed it.

"I can finish painting the guest room tomorrow," Hermione stated as she flicked on the living room light. She had missed the lamp light being on, but Spencer hadn't. He placed a hand on her shoulder as the dim light filled the room. Hermione stopped, understanding his silent request for her to wait.

Spencer silently slipped away from the archway and into the living room.

"Put your hands on top of your head and turn around slowly," Spencer demanded. For a moment, Hermione stood in the archway staring at the FBI agent. This was a side of Spencer she hadn't seen. Gone was the awkward, shy, and nerdy man she could relate with. The man before her was now an aggressor…a very sexy one at that.

The tall figure did as Spencer asked. Hermione couldn't see his face clearly. It wasn't until he spoke that Hermione knew who he was.

"Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. She flicked the lights on higher. "Oh, Spencer, lower the gun. This is Harry Potter, a friend of mine from school! Put your arms down, Harry!" Spencer and Harry did as she asked in sequence, but both men were still openly cautious of one another. Harry was certain that if the Muggle man felt threatened the gun in his hand would be up in seconds.

"How did you get in here?" Spencer asked, still suspicious of the man standing before the large fireplace.

"Her back door was unlocked and her kitchen light was on, so I assumed she was here," Harry stated. Hermione and Spencer shared a look, before Spencer headed into the kitchen to check it out. Harry turned to Hermione once Spencer was fully out of the room. "What the hell is an unknown man doing in your home? And why haven't you called?!"

"I've been a little busy, Harry!" Hermione sighed. Spencer came back into the room, ending the conversation. He held up the paper with his gloved hand.

"He was watching us," Spencer stated. Hermione and Harry came closer to look at the picture. It was drawn in charcoal and just as good as the one the UNSUB had left on her pillow; the only difference was another person was in the picture with her. The drawing was of Spencer and her standing in the guest room. The window pane could plainly be seen. It was the only thing that proved the distance between the FBI profiler and the witch. "There was this also." In Spencer's other hand laid a single red rose.

Harry had just been lying when he told them that he had come in through the back door. In reality, he had come in through the Floo Network. He hadn't expected Hermione to take his words as truth. Harry took in the tense expressions of the Muggle man and his best friend. Then he studied the picture closer. The detail in the drawing was amazing. The artist had paid close attention to Muggle and even more attention to Hermione. 'Almost as if he's worshipping her very image…' Harry paled as he realized what it meant.

"You're being stalked," he stated dryly. "Not even a week in Virginia and you're being stalked!" Hermione looked up at Spencer and ignored her best friend's rant about how trouble followed her.

"Would it be alright to tell him?" She asked. Spencer felt sympathy for her friend standing before. While Hermione seemed to be tuning her friend out, Spencer was tuning him in.

"It might be the best idea."


	7. Chapter 7

Stripped Bare

Chapter Seven

"Harry, you don't have to stay with me!" Hermione persisted while Spencer stepped out to talk to Gideon about the latest finding. The argument had been going on for the past few minutes. "Spencer is here." She dropped her tone. "The stalker is a Muggle." She raised her voice back to its normal level. "I'm not in any danger."

Harry's brows dipped inward. It wasn't just acting anymore. Hermione fully believed those words. Harry's green eyes darted to the front door as it opened and Spencer Reid stepped through. Harry adverted his eyes before the FBI agent could look up; the atmosphere between the two men was still very tense. He found himself staring once again into his sister's pleading eyes.

"Fine," Harry sighed. "I'll trust your judgment." Hermione beamed up at him, "Only because it has never steered us wrong before. I still don't trust him."

"I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual," Hermione muttered. Harry grinned. "I got to go. Ginny's getting impatient. I was supposed to be back with chocolate ice cream hours ago."

Spencer looked up as Hermione burst into waves of laughter. The black headed man with the horn rimmed glasses smiled softly at the sound. The profiler couldn't help but study the look. It was one that spoke volumes of relief and contentment. It was clear to Spencer that Hermione's laughter was a sound that Harry Potter had been deprived of for a while.

"Well, go on then!" Hermione shooed him toward the front door. Harry laughed and held his hands up.

"Alright! Alright! I'm going!" Harry exclaimed as he slipped out of the front door. Harry Potter walked to the far end of the street and with a sharp pop was gone.

"Does he do that often?" Spencer asked as Hermione closed the door. She turned to see him leaning against the framework of the hallway. Unwillingly, her heart beat sped up. His hair fell just below his chin. His dark brown eyes were fixed on her. His arms were crossed firmly over his chest and the gun was tugged back into his hostler. The image of him welding it and the confident, angry look on his features flashed through her mind. It did nothing for the rate of her heartbeat.

Spencer Reid didn't like to touch people or to be touched by those he didn't know. It was something that had been glaringly obvious the first time she saw moving through the airport crowd. He had looked uncomfortable and tense. His eyebrows would furrow each time someone brushed him. But yet, tonight, he had touched her.

Hermione shook her head to shake those thoughts. She couldn't help but recall something Draco Malfoy had told her in the Heads office one night after patrol. Their feelings of hatred and resentment had long ago faded to acceptance and a tentative friendshipthat had only been strengthened in the passing years. Each time she started to overthink little movements or gestures, Draco's words would work their way back from the recesses her mind: "Not everything has to be analyzed. Sometimes, they are exactly what they seem to be."

It was exactly what she was doing now. Spencer Reid was simply worried about her wellbeing, worried about a charge. With that thought in mind, she was better able to lock her girlish fantasies away and face the agent. Despite her resolve, her heart still gave a little jump as he dipped his head slightly.

"Are you alright?" He asked, pushing away from the frame casually. His brown eyebrows were creased softly as he stepped toward her. 'Could it be that the shock of the recent events are finally affecting her?' He wondered.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she attempted. Her voice sounded weak even to her. 'What the hell is wrong with me?!' She demanded of herself. 'Snap out of it!' It was a mute command; for the closer Spencer got the more frantic her mind became. 'He doesn't think of you like that! You are simply someone he has to protect! What are you an idiot?! You just met him today! This is just some silly momentary crush.' Her breath nearly froze in her lungs when he touched her again. This time it was on the elbow. 'Freaking out over an elbow touch….How the mighty have fallen…' She thought. Suddenly, she found herself staring into his dark eyes. 'So not helping, Dr. Reid.' She thought.

"Would you like to sit down?" He asked. Hermione almost laughed, but suppressed it well. She decided that she would be fine in the morning. Hermione gently moved her arm to the side.

"I'm just going to go lay down," Hermione told him. Spencer nodded and stepped back. Hermione could feel his eyes on her as she walked toward her bedroom door. The moment she was in the comfort of her purple walls, she turned and closed the door.

Stripped Bare

Once her door had closed, Spencer Reid sank down onto the comfortable looking couch and removed his shoes. For all of his attempts, Spencer couldn't fully focus his attentions just on the case. The woman in the purple bedroom hindered it.

Spencer could remember what crushes felt like and he was pretty sure that what was happening with Hermione was exactly that-a crush.

Neither of the house's occupants was aware that what they were feeling went a little deeper than that. But one outside force did. That outside force was Harry James Potter.

Stripped Bare

Harry couldn't help but think of his best friend and the Muggle FBI agent she had staying with her. They had feelings for one another; Harry had seen it. Hermione had found something in Spencer Reid that she hadn't found in Ron. It wasn't love, but complete understanding.

In the past few minutes Harry had spent in the house with the two of them, Harry had seen more between them that he had ever seen between Hermione and Ronald. The look the two of them shared was filled with a type of communication that, no matter how hard they tried to achieve, Ron and she had lacked. He had seen it when the agent stood.

Hermione's attention adverted from Harry for a moment as the man sitting in the plush red armchair set his feet on the floor and moved to stand. She had nodded. He had smiled and took his phone from his pocket and walked from the living room. The exchange was a plea for permission to leave the conversation and the room to make a call. No words were needed. They simply knew.

Hermione had found in Spencer Reid, not only a friend, but someone she could actually talk with and someone she wouldn't leave behind in a cloud of confusion as she spoke a mile per minute. He had seen that in the way they talked about her stalker. Where his sentence ended, Hermione picked up. She had found her intellectual match.

When she had been in England, Harry knew that she would grow agitated with Ron and him when they couldn't keep up with what she was saying. Even Draco Malfoy, the second at the top of class, couldn't keep fully up with what she was saying, because he didn't share her world. He wasn't a part of it. In the ways of a Muggle, he was lost.

"Are you a witch or not?!" It was a demand Ron had often made of Hermione when she did things the Muggle way. The look on her face always struck Harry. Ron had sworn to accept all of her, but he seemed to be angered by the part of her that made Hermione who she was: the Muggle in her.

And the most important factor of all for Harry Hermione was finally healing. For that reason alone, despite all of Harry's suspicion toward the man, Harry liked Spencer Reid. Harry only hoped that once Spencer Reid found out about her being a witch that he would be more accepting of the Wiccan side of her than Ron had been of her Muggle.


	8. Chapter 8

Stripped Bare

Chapter Eight

 

"Well done, Ha-" The Death Eater Hermione had struck dumb made a sudden slashing motion with his wand from which flew a streak of what looked like purple flame. It passed right across Hermione's chest; she gave a tiny "oh!" as though of surprise and then crumpled onto the floor where she lay motionless.

"HERMIONE!" (Page 795; Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling.) Hermione could hear Harry screaming her name, but she couldn't see him. She couldn't move to help him. She could feel everything, hear everything, but could not move.

The spell the Death Eater had shot at her had been one of his own creations. Hermione didn't have to know the background of the spell to know that if he had spoken it aloud it would have killed her. As waves of nerve splitting pain ripped through her, she found herself slightly wishing he had. She wanted so badly to give an outward expression of the pain.

Hermione jerked awake as a spasm of pain rippled through her. Hermione grimaced and dug the potion she had been taught to make out of the drawer of her nightstand. The spell, she had found out, had been a watered down version of the Cruciatus curse. The effects of it had only stopped once Hermione had been far enough away from the caster.

It was the very same potion that Madame Pomfrey had given her after the incident, but she added her own little twist. It tasted a lot better. She had added vanilla and chocolate extract to the mix. She tipped the container back and slipped from the bed. She grabbed her wand from her drawer and risked a glance at the clock: 4 a.m.

She hadn't told Harry or Ron that she still had side effects from that night nor had she told them that Bellatrix's performance of the Cruciatus Curse had made the side effects even more potent. Madame Pomfrey and Fleur Weasley were the only two souls that she had told. Dumbledore had known instantly. Hermione smiled at the fond reminder of the deceased man as she pushed open her bedroom door and stepped out into the hall.

Hermione furrowed her brow as she spotted a shivering Spencer Reid lying on her couch.

"How silly of me…" She mumbled. Not only had she left the sweet man without a blanket, but without a pillow as well. Hermione nibbled her bottom lip and summoned both of those things with a flick of her wrist. Spencer didn't awaken as the pillow wormed its way underneath his head nor did he stir as the blanket tucked itself around him.

Hermione's foot tapped something on the floor as she moved around the couch. She stooped down to pick up the item. Her amber eyes widened slightly as she realized that it was the book she had been correcting for a Chemistry professor at Yale-where she had went to college. She blushed and marked his place with a conjured bookmark and set it on the coffee table.

Hermione cast one more look at the sleeping man to make sure he looked comfortable then wandered back to her own bedroom with the intent to sleep.

Stripped Bare

Spencer Reid awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee. He also found himself warm and very comfortable. He cracked one eye open to see a blue comforter draped across him. He could hear faint music coming from the kitchen. He found that he didn't want to move.

The hands on the clock pointed to seven a.m. He had to be at work by nine a.m. With a reluctant sigh, he threw off the cover and stepped down onto the cold hardwood floor. He plodded into the kitchen. Hermione looked up from the stove and smiled.

"Good morning, Spencer," she greeted.

"How long have you been awake?" He asked, as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Hermione suppressed an amused smile at the husky tone of his voice.

"Since six," Hermione stated. "Sugar's in the cabinet above you." Spencer smiled softly at her direction. He looked over at her. "Figured that's what you were looking for. Ah…I don't use creamer in my coffee just milk." Spencer smiled.

"It's usually what I use too. Unless I'm at the office," he stated as he slipped past her and over to the refrigerator. Hermione tried to ignore that he was just millimeters away from her while he tried to do the same. The feelings Hermione had thought would be removed by a good night's sleep were still present. Her heart was still hammering even as she slid some of the bacon and a biscuit onto a plate. She handed it to Spencer with relative ease. He smiled and took it from her hand while sipping his coffee. Hermione smiled softly and made her own plate. "What's on your agenda for today?" He asked. Hermione raised an eyebrow as she bit into her bacon.

"Just to stay here and finish up painting the guest room unless you want me to come with you," Hermione fell silent after that sentence. For a moment, they both looked at one another. The silent communication that Harry had noticed beforehand was in play.

It was more than likely driving the UNSUB crazier to know that Hermione wasn't home when he came calling just as it was probably driving him crazy knowing that Spencer was staying at her house. Hermione smiled, understanding. If they kept pushing him, maybe he would make a mistake.

"I'll call Gideon after we get done eating," Spencer stated. Hermione nodded with a small smile and went back to her own food. Within minutes, they had the small breakfast polished off then they fell into a system that consisted of Hermione washing the dishes and Spencer rinsing them and putting them in the rack to dry.

"Do you not find this strange?" Hermione asked him as she handed him the cup he had been drinking out of. She dried her hands off with the green towel hanging just beside the window by the sink.

"No. It feels kind of-" Spencer started as she passed him the towel.

"Natural," they both said. Spencer smiled over at her and finished drying his hands. He hung the towel back on the golden circle.

"As you said in the airport, I can relate," Hermione smiled, "to you. I feel like you understand what it's like to be-"

"Different?" Hermione supplied. Spencer smiled.

"Yeah. There's also something else. Earlier before, at the airport, you said that Morgan reminded you of someone?"

"Draco Malfoy. He tormented my friends and me for years before he finally saw sense." A small smile flinted across Spencer's lips.

"Even the initials are the same," he pointed out. Hermione answered his grin with one of her own and a small snort of laughter.

"They are!" She exclaimed. He smiled and then a thought occurred to him: Gideon.

"Oh! I'll be right back!" Spencer excused himself from the kitchen. Hermione shook her head with a small smile and walked toward her bedroom.

Stripped Bare

Spencer snapped his cell phone shut and wandered back into the house. He gathered up all of his clothing and other necessities and headed toward the bathroom. When he walked back out, he spotted the book he had been looking at before he drifted off sitting on the coffee table. A small laugh came from him as he realized that she had marked the page he had been on.

When he had picked the book, he had been extremely curious. Then when he had begun to read it, he was impressed because not only had she been right on every answer, but she had added things that he doubted even college professors were able to see and worded it in a way that students would understand.

Spencer walked toward the table and lifted the book into his hands again. He opened it to the page he had been on. Her elegant script littered the page along with many marks. When he had drifted off, he had only been on the twentieth page.

"So what do you think, Boy Wonder, see any errors?" She asked. He nearly dropped the book as he turned to face her. She stood in the archway of the hallway, finishing her ponytail. He smiled and attempted to ignore the way her button up shirt rose to reveal the pale skin of her stomach with each move of her arm.

"Not so far," he commented as he marked his place and closed it again. He stood with the book still in his hand and moved to put it on the coffee table when she spoke again.

"Bring it with us and I'll help you carry something if you'd like," Hermione stated as she came to a stop beside him.

"I've got it. Thank you though," Hermione rolled her eyes good naturedly and lifted the lightest bag from the pile.

"To give your back a break," she repeated with a wink. Spencer laughed and shook his head as he bent to grab his satchel. The Chemistry book was still firmly gripped in his left hand.

Stripped Bare

"Correcting another book, genius?" Morgan asked as soon as he spotted Spencer walking into the BAU. Spencer shook his head.

"Not me," Spencer passed the book to Hermione, "her." Morgan blinked owlishly while Spencer and Hermione shared a small smile. Derek did not miss the exchange.

'This is starting to go way over scary…' He thought as he watched the two geniuses. Hermione now sat at Spencer's desk and he stood behind her reading over her shoulder. Every now and then, Hermione would mark something out and write in something. Spencer would point to something and Hermione would nod. No words were exchanged. 'They hardly even know one another and they're so freaking alike!' He was pulled out of his thoughts by Emily setting her coffee cup down on her desktop. Her other arm was filled with files. She glanced toward Spencer's desk and did a double take.

"No coffee for you today?" Emily asked in surprise. Spencer looked up from where he stood.

"I already had a cup…"

"Or three," Hermione teased. Spencer rolled his eyes and nudged her with his shoulder. He would have looked annoyed had it not been for the smile on his face. "Hey! Don't make me mess up!" Hermione cried. Morgan grinned cheekily at the blush he could clearly spot on her cheeks. She knew what they knew, he was flirting with her. And if Morgan's eyes were correct, she was flirting back.

"Okay…JJ and Garcia are right…" Emily admitted as she looked at them. Morgan swung his chair toward her and stopped the momentum with his shoe.

"About what?" He asked. Emily raised her eyebrows and motioned toward the two lost in their own little nerdy world.

"That," she stated bluntly as she jerked her thumb toward Spencer's desk. JJ's smug face caught her eye. A small groan escaped her lips as she realized that she would now be pulled into the matchmaking squad.

"You alright, Emily?" Spencer asked, the sound having pulled both Hermione and Spencer from their corrections. Morgan and JJ choked back laughter.

"I'm fine…"

"We need all of the members of the team rooting for them!" Garcia had exclaimed once JJ and she had been able to corner Emily. "That way-"

"It will be Reid staying with her every night," Emily realized, her eyes widened, "Oh! You naughty people, you should be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Don't worry, Penelope, she'll see it our way soon enough," JJ had comforted the blonde tech. Emily suppressed a shudder at how sinister her friend just sounded and turned to walk away with the files secured underneath her left arm and her coffee in her right hand.

"What do you have there?" Spencer asked as he moved away from Hermione and his desk. He only moved far enough to recline at the back of it. Hermione attempted to ignore the view she was getting with a scarlet blush gracing her cheeks. She was thankful that her profile was hidden by his.

"I'm looking through all the reports we gathered from other women who fit the M.O. to see if they encountered a man like him before. Now that we have an accurate profile, maybe I can find something we missed the first time," Emily stated as she slipped into her desk.

"I would offer to help you, but I know that you'll just slip some onto my desk when you think I'm not looking," Spencer drawled. Emily grinned widely.

"Aw…you know me so well."


	9. Chapter 9

Stripped Bare

Chapter Nine

Hermione sat with her feet propped in Spencer's lap and one of the files Emily had slipped onto Spencer's desk thrown across her thighs. The two seemed very comfortable. Spencer only moved to circle something in his own file on the table. Every now and then one of the team members would glance up at the two.

Gideon found it slightly odd. When it had come to watching Lilah Morgan, Spencer had said that he felt as though he had aged ten years in the time he had known her; yet, with Hermione Granger, Spencer looked relaxed.

"Spencer, look at this," Hermione spoke suddenly. Spencer moved away from his own file and Hermione set hers down over his. The team abandoned their own files and turned their attention toward her. "This woman says that she encountered a very attractive male at a bar about a year ago. They sat at the table and talked for a little while. She says that he mentioned a woman named Karen often and that Karen and he had been in love. But just when things were about to become more serious, she suddenly moved away."

"Karen could have been when the pattern started," Spencer stated. Hermione nodded.

"The woman who left him jaded," Hermione confirmed. "I'm thinking that he intended for Miss," Hermione looked up at the name on the statement, "Faith Callao to be his beginning, but he was too drunk by the end of the night to do anything but go home."

"He probably hasn't been in bar since then," Spencer predicted.

"Addiction to alcohol could be a factor," Hermione supplied. "He could stay to more friendly places now. Like a library or coffee shop."

"Why, a library?" Morgan asked.

"Well, it's where I would feel most comfortable at," Hermione stated, "besides my own home."

"Well, you seem pretty comfortable here," Morgan pointed out. Hermione smiled.

"I am," she admitted. Gideon set aside his own folder. Hotch could see the decision on his face. Gideon had found the confirmation he had been waiting for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm going to ask her to become a consultant for our branch." Gideon had stated one night in the conference room. Hotch had turned to him.

"Are you sure that would be wise? We know next to nothing about this woman," Hotch stated.

"I know that JJ trusts her and Reid's already comfortable with her," Gideon's brown eyes were serious. "Right now, that is enough for me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Miss. Granger," Gideon started, his tone pulled the entire team's focus to him.

"Call me Hermione, Agent Gideon," she offered. Gideon smiled.

"Only if you return the favor and call me Gideon," Hermione smiled and nodded.

"I can do that."

"I want you to be a consultant for this team," Gideon stated bluntly. Emily almost dropped her file onto the floor. Hermione's mouth dropped into a small 'o'. Gideon smiled softly at her shocked expression. "Will you do it?"

"But sir, won't that put her in the direct line of danger?" Emily stuttered.

"I think that it is a fair assumption to say that she has been in the direct line of danger before," Gideon stated. Morgan nearly choked on his breath in surprise at the blunt way his team leader referred to the injuries they had all noticed. Spencer's body was as tense as an ironing board at the mention.

Gideon could feel Spencer's glaring eyes attempting to burn a hole in his skin, but he paid him no mind. He knew that his team believed he had overstepped a boundary that Hermione had set up, but he doubted that he had.

Hermione understood Spencer's worry. Using the stealth she had learned in the war, she moved one of her hands from her lap and rubbed a small circle onto the tense muscles of his lower back. To his credit, Spencer didn't jump. His heart merely did. He suppressed all outward reactions to her action, knowing full well that he would be teased relentlessly if any of the team members found out. To his team, it would look as though her arm was dangling between the small space they had left between their two seats.

"You would be right," Hermione admitted. Gideon and the team waited for her to elaborate when she didn't Gideon once again bit the bullet.

"How did you get that scar, Hermione?" Gideon asked. The muscles Hermione had just loosened in Spencer's back drew taunt again. Hermione applied a little more pressure to her circles as she debated how to answer the question without giving anything away.

"I have been a consultant before," Hermione admitted, "for my former government. The UNSUB we were against had many followers. Harry, Ron, and I stumbled upon one of their hideouts. We had tried to backtrack but it was too late. They knew we were there." To the team members listening intently, it seemed that Hermione had transported herself back. "They took me for questioning and forced Harry and Ron into the cellar."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wait," said Bellatrix sharply. "All except…except for the Mudblood."

Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.

"No!" shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!"

Bellatrix hit him across the face; the blow echoed around the room.

"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," she said. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them-yet." (Page 463; Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling.)

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?"

"We found it-we found it-PLEASE!" Hermione screamed again. (p. 464-465; Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K Rowling.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The pain was excruciating…but I had no way to escape. I couldn't throw her away from me, because like Harry and Ron my hands were tied behind my back and she sat atop my legs..." Despite how horrified the team was by her story, they continued to listen.

Gideon felt sick. He knew that the story behind the scar wasn't a pleasant one, but he had asked. He had opened a door that she had apparently slammed closed and threw away the key. She wasn't just retelling the story…she was reliving it and painting the picture for them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

"We only just met him tonight!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault…It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!" (Page 467; Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It felt like it went on for hours, but in reality, it was only a few minutes…" Hermione stated. Spencer's knuckles were slowly turning white as he curled his nails bit into his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And I think," said Bellatrix's voice, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her." (p. 472; Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling.) Hermione couldn't even find it in her to feel fear. Her body was spent. All she wanted was sleep. Then suddenly, a battle was raging around her. She felt the same vile hands that had ahold of her before pull her from the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry and Ron eventually got free to the cellar and disarmed three of the family members. Once my captive realized she was at a disadvantage…she improvised…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"STOP OR SHE DIES!" Hermione could feel the cool metal of the bloody blade pressing into her throat.

"Drop your wands," she could hear Bellatrix whisper, "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!" Hermione assumed that no one moved because the next moment, "I said, drop them!" Hermione hardly felt her blood being spilt for a second time. Nor did she feel the pain as a chandelier came crashing down upon her. (Dialogue from above comes from pages 472 and 473 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END MEMORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"She held me at knife point and demanded that they drop their weapons," Spencer, compelled to do something, grabbed her free hand that was sitting in her lap and gave it a small squeeze. The action seemed to jar her from her memories. She smiled softly over at him then continued her story. "They were reluctant of course, but when they didn't do as she said fast enough. She applied pressure. That pressure was still being applied with the chandelier chain snapped underneath its own weight." Hermione raised the hand that had been rubbing circles into Spencer's back and touched her fingertips to the scar. "They got to see just how dirty my blood was; because it had been spilled all over their floor by the time Ron got me out from underneath the chandelier."

"Dirty?" Morgan asked.

"They believed that those who did not live as they did-following their leader's ideas-had dirty blood. They were attacking those that they believed inferior to them." Hermione explained.

"The scar on your wrist…" Spencer whispered. His thumb that had been moving back and forth across her hand had stilled all movement. Hermione nodded.

"She put that there," Hermione confirmed.

"What scar?" Morgan asked. Hermione, in answer, laid her wrist across the table. Derek flinched as he realized that it had to of been traced over and over again to be that deep. "MUDBLOOD" stared up at the horrified team. No more questions were asked about her scars.

"Spencer, you'll stay with her again tonight…" Gideon commanded softly. Spencer nodded slightly.

"Of course."


	10. Chapter 10

Stripped Bare

Chapter Ten

Silence had taken the place of the jovial atmosphere from that morning as Hermione opened the front door to the house. She set her keys down on the coffee table and moved toward the kitchen. She could hear Spencer moving around behind her.

"Wait," he called softly. Hermione stopped her progress. Her whole body was tense. He sighed. She could practically see him running a hand through his hair. "Are you alright?" He asked. Hermione turned to face him.

"I will be," she promised with a soft smile.

"It's just…I know that those…that those types of memories aren't something you can easily dig up and then forget again. It takes time and Gideon-"

"Spencer," Hermione interrupted softly, "it's alright." For a moment, Spencer wondered when she had gotten so close to him. "It happened a long time ago. Don't be mad at Gideon."

"He did it only because-" Spencer's hand moved to make a path through his hair again; Hermione caught his hand before it could and held it. Spencer's heart skipped one beat before nailing the drum solo. A small blush colored her cheeks as she felt the hammering of his pulse.

"He wanted to know more about me and to prove his point," her tone was still soft. "I'm not a stranger to the dangers of this world, Spencer."

"I just…I hate that you had to go through that," he admitted quietly. For a moment, they stood on the floor and stared at one another. Compared to Spencer's tall frame, Hermione was petite. Her head came to his shoulders. Hermione's heart started to pound as Spencer moved one hand from his side and cupped her cheek. His brown eyes studied her amber ones for any signs of hesitation; when he found none, he began to slowly lean forward. Her tiptoes provided the needed leverage. Slowly, their eyes began to drift closed. Then, the crash of a tin garbage can tipping over echoed throughout the house.

Spencer and Hermione shot away from one another. The figurative spell between them had been broken. They shared one look and then Spencer drew his gun. He motioned with one hand toward the front door and motioned again for her to stay put. Hermione nodded, knowing she could do nothing without giving herself away. Spencer slowly approached the door and flicked the lock open.

Hermione watched with worried eyes as he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. All the while, the UNSUB stayed hidden in the hallway with a wide grin on his face. All the FBI agent would find was a tipped over garbage can and a cat hissing in a tree. The moment the door was fully closed and he was sure that the FBI agent was off the concrete slab in front of the house. He pounced.

However, Hermione Granger would not someone that would be made into an innocent victim. The tensing of her body from before had been her reaction to the feeling of being watched. Hermione jabbed her elbow out and doubled the UNSUB, then spun on her heel and delivered a firm upper cut to the man's jaw.

"SPENCER!" She screamed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hold the UNSUB off for long just using her bare hands. As if testament to her belief, the man returned her hit with one of his own. The punch sent Hermione staggering back. The UNSUB grabbed a hold of her hair. The front door burst open just as he pulled her to him. Hermione was once again greeted with the cold texture of a blade pressing into her throat.

"Drop it," he hissed at Spencer. "Drop it and move away from the front door." Spencer looked to Hermione, then back to the UNSUB, before throwing his gun down. Hermione swallowed and closed her eyes.

They had taunted the UNSUB far too much for him to just let Spencer walk from house unharmed. In a flash, thousands of scenarios of him harmed ran through her head like a picture show. As the UNSUB pushed her forward so that he could reach the gun, Hermione opened her eyes. They connected with Spencer's horrified brown ones.

'Now or never, Granger….' She thought as her hand slipped down to her inner thigh. Both men were locked in some type of staring contest as she grabbed ahold of her wand. The moment her hand touched it, it became visible. Spencer's eyes widened at the suddenly apparent object. The UNSUB did not notice.

"Stupefy!" Spencer watched in amazement as bright red light exploded from the tip of the stick and struck the UNSUB across the chest. Hermione was only left with a small slice across her neck as the UNSUB's body jerked backward and into the wall. Hermione winced at the impact. A bewildered Spencer watched as Hermione raised her wand and pointed it in between the eyes of the UNSUB. He stepped forward, unsure of what that object could do. "Oblivate…"

"What did you just-" Spencer started.

"I erased his memory of this," Hermione stated, waving her wand about. Her eyes filled with sadness as Spencer jerked unconsciously.

"What will he…uh…remember?" Spencer choked, suddenly afraid of the small girl standing before him.

"He waited until you had left the room. He got his chance when you spilt some tea on the floor. You left to get a towel from the bathroom. He ceased the opportunity in your absence and grabbed me. He held me at knife point. He thought that I would come quietly if he threatened my life. You came back in from the bathroom. Picked up that lamp," she pointed toward the touch lamp standing by the hallway's arch, "and cracked him across the head with it." Spencer easily took in that information but was still eyeing the stick in her hand and her like she was a serpent ready to strike. His hands were still holding tightly to the gun. Hermione sighed sadly. "I'm not going to hurt you, Spencer…"

Despite his fear, his heart tugged at the sadness that was sudden apparent in her eyes. Despite what had just happened, he still trusted her. With that thought in mind, Spencer lowered his gun; but self-preservation did not allow him to put it back in the hostler. He closed the front door behind him, but stayed there.

Hermione swallowed back tears at the reluctance Spencer now showed her. 'What did you think would happen?' A voice sounded suspiciously like Lavender's nasally tones berated. Hermione looked back toward the UNSUB lying on the floor. He would be out for a few more minutes.

"Why?" Spencer started. The sentence seemed to get stuck in his throat. He cleared it before starting again. "Why did you hide it?"

"I believe the "it" you're talking about is me being a witch," Hermione studied him closely for any signs of disgust or fear, "in the Wizarding World we have laws. If Muggles, non-magic folk, find out what we are we have two options: to erase their memories of the magic or to perform a spell that renders them incapable of speaking, signing, or writing down what they saw."

"Which are you going to do to me?" Spencer demanded suddenly.

"I trust you, Spencer," Hermione admitted quietly, "I'm not going to erase your memory nor am I going to perform that spell. The idea of pointing my wand at you for any reason is slightly repulsive." Spencer could not doubt the sincerity of her words. It read in her stance and the shine of tears in her eyes. Spencer nodded sharply and holstered his gun. He took his phone from his pocket. He dialed Gideon's familiar number. As it rang, he shot Hermione a look and mouthed: "We'll take more on it later." Hermione nodded and attempted to ignore the fear that was building up in her stomach.

"Gideon, we got the UNSUB. He was in Hermione's home when we came in." Spencer paused. "He's unconscious." Spencer motioned with one hand for Hermione to make the scene. Hermione seeing that he was following by the story she gave him quickly made a spill of tea on the hardwood. Spencer watched slightly amazed as she conjured a glass from the kitchen and another full one on the coffee table. "See you in a minute." Spencer clicked his cell phone closed and studied the scene around them.

The silence that filled the room was border lining on unbearable. Spencer watched as Hermione tucked her wand into the leather hostler on her upper thigh and continued to watch as it melted out of his view before looking back up at her. Her amber eyes bore into his.

"I understand if you want nothing more to do with me-"

"Stop," Spencer demanded as he took the room in three strides. "What you are is frightening on some level, yes, but…I still want something to do with you. On some level, I knew there was something more different about you than there ever was about me," Spencer slipped his hand underneath her chin and tilted her face upward, "but that does not mean that I am repulsed by you. You are still Hermione Granger and believe it or not, I still like you." Hermione was momentarily silenced by his speech, so all she could do was nod in answer. "But don't think that we aren't going talk more about it later. I would very much like to learn about your world, about you. Now, that I feel like you'll be more willing to share." Spencer's eyes were twinkling slightly as he spoke. Hermione let out a breathy laugh. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at her flushed face. "You're not going into shock, are you?"

"I'm afraid I might be," she laughed as Spencer lowered her onto the couch. Spencer shook his head with a fond smile. The smile fell at the small beads of blood he saw on her neck. He took the cloth of his shirt cuff and pressed it to the skin there. "Spence-"

"Shush," he scolded lightly, "let me take care of you, alright?" Hermione blushed brightly.

"Alright…"

"You know I find it bewildering that a man can break into your home, leave drawings on your pillow and other objects as a bizarre kind of courtship, and then attack you in your own home and still you're as cool and calculated as before; yet, my accepting of you makes you go into shock…" Spencer's eyes bore into hers over as he moved his cuff around on her throat. He gently took it away to make sure the bleeding had stopped.

"What can I say, you are quiet the shocking individual," Hermione complimented as he tilted her head slightly with his fingertips. He smiled softly at her.

"I could say the same about you," he returned as sirens sliced through the night air.


	11. Chapter 11

Stripped Bare

Chapter Eleven

Derek Morgan pulled the UNSUB off the floor with a savage jerk. He passed the couch and shook his head slightly as he listened to JJ fussing over Hermione's neck. JJ kept trying to tilt Hermione's head to get a better look at it, only to be pushed away gently by the girl in question.

It did not go unnoticed to any of the team that Spencer stuck close to Hermione even after giving his statement on what had happened. When it came time for her to give her own statement, he stood behind her. His hands were lying on the back of the couch next to her shoulders. She seemed to lean back into him as she spoke. Her head brushed his chest with every nod and shake. It was an unconscious action that seemed normal.

JJ couldn't help but study their interactions closely. They seemed only slightly awkward around one another. JJ knew that neither Spencer nor Hermione were easy to distract once they sensed danger. So, JJ was left to wonder what had happened to cause both of them to miss it.

Emily could see the questioning look on JJ's face. She too was curious at what caused Reid's guard to slip. He didn't always have a sixth sense for danger, but when that danger is frighteningly close to his person or someone else he felt it just as strongly as he would a person touching him. Emily's eyes widened slightly. 'Touching…' She realized. 'What would cause Reid to drop a glass?' Emily's eyes darted back to the duo sitting on the couch. 'A touch he wasn't expecting…' Emily knew from experience. The first time she had touched Dr. Reid was when she accidentally brushed the side of his neck grabbing for the back of his chair. He had dropped a vanilla folder then.

Spencer Reid had a personal area. He didn't like for it to be invaded nor did he like to have to initiate any type of contact that would require him invading someone else's personal space. Yet, he willingly invaded Hermione Granger's personal area and only showed small hints of hesitation.

Spencer could feel the newest member of the BAU's eyes on him. Emily Prentiss, despite her connections, was cut out for the job of an FBI agent. She knew what to look for and solved most things rather rapidly. Usually, he was indifferent to her ability, but in light of the recent events her ability made him nervous.

"I think Emily may have figured something out," Reid whispered into Hermione's ear. It was only audible to her even though JJ sat inches from her. Hermione simply turned her head toward him and nodded. A small blush graced her cheeks as she realized just how close they were. She looked away. Spencer followed her action. Neither could stop the memory of what nearly had transpired in the very room they were now sitting in from rising from the surface. A small blush graced both of their cheeks. Over the back of the couch, JJ and Emily shared a look. Something had happened before the UNSUB attacked. The mystery of it all was finding out what had happened.

The mystery was soon forgotten when Hermione offered dinner to the hungry agents and laughter filled the empty space. Morgan, JJ, Emily, and Spencer were slightly shocked when Gideon stayed but were also pleased. Hotch had went home and an excited Garcia had taken his place at the dinner table. The night had ended splendidly. Spencer was the only member of the team that stayed behind much to Morgan's teasing. When Hermione had reentered the room, all teasing had stopped and Morgan informed Hermione of their 'club night' ritual. The look of slightly muted horror on Hermione's face sent Morgan out the door laughing.

The silence that filled the house after the team left wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it was close. Hermione kept replaying the near kiss in her head. Her body gave a delicious shiver each time she thought about the warmth of his hand as it cupped her cheek or the heavy but gentle feel of his arm as it wrapped around her waist. She lifted her amber eyes to the man sitting at her kitchen table.

Spencer knew that she hadn't rejected him and knew that before the UNSUB had attacked Hermione had been just as willing as he had to progress their possible relationship from something farther than comfortable acquaintances. Spencer's eyebrows frowned. 'The term just sounds so…formal.' He thought. 'Are we really only acquaintances?' He allowed himself to glance over at her out of the corner of his brown eyes. 'I know more about her than anyone else here. She made it clear that no one in my team knew that she was a witch.'

"Spencer?" Hermione called softly, breaking his thought process. "Are you alright?" Spencer shifted awkwardly. "If it's about the near ki-"

"It's not," Spencer nearly hollered. Hermione blinked. Her eyes were wide in barely suppressed shock. Her lips had fallen open in a small 'o' before they came together again. Spencer sighed and ran a hand through his hair again; Hermione was quickly relating the motion to stress. "I mean…it is, but it wasn't bad, you know?" Hermione smiled softly at the struggling man. She knew exactly what he meant and told him so. "But…it got me thinking: what are we?" Spencer struggled to draw the confidence to meet Hermione's sight for more than a few minutes. His eyes wandered to the cabinet handle by her head. "Are we friends? Acquaintances? Do we know one another well enough to be friends?"

"I know that you like loads of sugar in your coffee. You have a nervous tick that involves messing up your hair," Spencer lowered his hand from his hair awkwardly at her mention of it. A small chuckle escaped from her lips. "You have three doctorates in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics. You have two bachelors Psychology and Sociology. You don't snore. You're clever, assertive when you want to be, gentle, and persistent when it counts. You're comfortable on my couch and in my house…"

"You know all of these about me, but I know only a handful about you." Spencer pointed out. A small shock still clung to his mind that she had gathered all of these things about him in just the few days they had spent together.

"You can ask me anything," Hermione supplied. "You said that you would like to get to know me now that I'm willing to share," she made quotation marks in the air. "I was willing to share with you the day you earned my trust."

"Which was?" Spencer pressed.

"Shortly after I embarrassed myself by being short with you," Hermione stated evenly. A small blush graced her face at the memory. She had thought, when she first saw him, that he was just the right amount of cute mixed with a little bit of sexy.

"Because I was an FBI agent?" Spencer asked, slightly incredulous. Hermione's expression turned offended. Spencer wanted to backtrack but knew that there was no way to.

"No!" She exclaimed. "Because I could relate to the way you moved through the crowd. You were afraid of someone touching you. You didn't like it so I figured the chances of you trying to grab me or harm me were slim. It would involve human contact." Again, Spencer was shocked. A few seconds before their meeting, she had already found out an important factor about him.

"Oh," Spencer mumbled. Hermione smiled softly at him and moved away from the counter with a swift step then sank into the chair next to him. A small touch on his hand that remained on the dark wood table top made him look up at her. The pale blue walls of the kitchen seemed to fade away along with the sounds of the night outside until only they remained in the world.

"But yet…you seem to enjoy my touch," Hermione said quietly. "You don't avoid it…you welcome it." Spencer flipped his palm upward so that Hermione's rested in his and squeezed. Hermione's eyes darted from their hands back up to his eyes. He smiled.

For the rest of the night, they remained at the kitchen table talking of everything they could think of: the reason Hermione came to Quantico, Spencer's Las Vegas life, where they'd been, and etc. The night was filled with emotions such as amusement, incredulity, and anger. By the time they retired to their places, every stepping stone in their lives that made them who they were had been stepped onto and studied to the fullest; and yet, both felt that there was still more to know about the other and they were, by nature, very eager to learn.


	12. Chapter 12

Stripped Bare

Chapter Twelve

Spencer glanced around and saw nothing. The sounds he could hear told him everything: water smacked the ground from a leaking pipe; horrendous screams were coming from above his imprisonment; and the beating of fists upon the wall was accompanied by the sounds of crying. Suddenly, one of the people-he counted at least five breathing patterns-hollered out. His voice overpowered the screaming coming from the upper level.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" The man's fists struck the wall harder than the before.

'Hermione?' Spencer thought as a momentary fear gripped his heart. The screaming upstairs grew louder and an evil cackle reached his ears. The sound turned his blood to ice. Spencer soon found himself screaming her name along with the man.

"Spencer!" Hermione suddenly hollered back. Her voice was exactly as he had imagined it would be: full of fear and panic. "Spencer! Sweetie, wake up!" Spencer's brown eyes snapped open to find Hermione's amber staring down at him. "Hey." Hermione reluctantly pulled her hand away from his hair. Instantly, he missed her touch. He grabbed her wrist easily. His thumb stroked the inside. It dipped and surfaced along the deep scar on her arm. Hermione's lips fell open in a small 'o' once more as the heat from his touch sent shivers down her spine. "Spencer?"

Spencer tugged on her arm. The motion brought Hermione, who had been propped up only by her toes, forward. His arm wrapped around her waist tightly and his head buried into her shoulder. Shock momentarily overcame Hermione's senses. She raised her hand to his hair and began to run her fingers through it once more.

"I'm okay, Spencer…" She soothed. "I'm not going anywhere." Hermione smiled softly as Spencer began to slowly compose himself. Once his shoulders had stopped their violent shaking, he pulled away from her. Hermione's eyes echoed her smile as he cleared his throat and awkwardly released her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered with red tinted cheeks. "I…just…uh…" Hermione stood from her position and sank down onto the couch as his side. She sat in front of his stomach. Her bare legs stuck out from underneath the large black nightshirt she wore. Spencer tore his eyes away from her skin and angled his head upward to look at her face, and then propped up onto one elbow.

"I probably shouldn't have given you the details of that night, huh?" Hermione asked, tracing over her scar with her index finger. She looked up as the hand not propping up his head rested on top of her hand.

"I'm glad that you trusted me enough to open up about it," he stated. Her hand fell away as he tugged at her wrist. She watched in muted fascination as he brought her wrist to his lips. Hermione face reddened as Spencer kissed deep indentions of her scar. Each letter received a gentle peck. Just for a moment, the Girl Genius forgot how to breathe and she couldn't look away. The momentary lapse in memory was only worsened when he bravely raised his brown eyes to hers. This was the assertive Spencer Reid.

Silence fell over them. Neither Spencer nor Hermione could believe what he had done. Spencer's lips still tingled from the small kisses he had placed; Hermione's skin still felt the imprint. Her ability to breath had come back. Her heart ran the one hundred meter dash in her chest and showed no signs of stopping even as it crossed the finish line.

The intimacy of the moment they had just shared went above the near kiss of earlier, but still was just as capable of leaving the two geniuses wanting more. Finally when the fire within them cooled slightly, Hermione moved to break the silence:

"Morgan said something about club night being a tradition?" Hermione asked. Spencer smiled at the cute, seemingly unconscious, tilt of her head.

"It supposed to be a night of relaxation," Spencer stated. Hermione smiled at the slightly sarcastic note in his tone. Spencer found himself aching to kiss her curved lips.

"But it's not your idea of relaxing," Spencer nodded at her statement as he attempted to ignore the urgings of the more assertive part of him.

"I've come to enjoy them, I suppose," Spencer shrugged. A teasing smile drifted onto Hermione's face.

"Ever dance with any cute girls?" She asked. Spencer's eyes darkened slightly. Hermione blinked as they met hers. Once more, her heart took off from its steady pace.

"I might tonight," he answered. The clock above Hermione's television shown the bright red numbers: five a.m. Hermione fought not to show just how much that statement unnerved her.

"If you think you can keep up, Casanova Reid," She joked lamely. Spencer blushed, grinned, and shook his head lightly.

"I'm sure I can. After all, I've kept up with you so far," Spencer admitted quietly. Hermione blushed as she processed the low whisper. The curly headed genius was tempted to kiss him, but fought the sudden need down by standing. Spencer's eyebrows tilted at the sudden movement. An unconscious pout crossed his face. Spencer once again tilted his head to see her.

He watched the small movement of Hermione's amber eyes as they looked from his lips to his eyes. The angle at which his head was tilted and the slight pout to his lips made her want to kiss him even more. Suddenly, the urge to fight the temptation seemed void. Before either knew what was happening, Hermione swooped down and kissed his lips.

It was a quick peck like the ones he had rained onto her wrist and before Spencer had time to process it, she was gone. He was left with his mouth set in a small 'o' and a blush on his cheeks. Hermione's own face rivaled her house color as she shut the door to her bedroom.

Spencer flopped back onto the dark couch and touched his fingertips to his lips. The kiss wasn't much, but it didn't have to be. It had the right effect. It left him wanting even more of her.

Stripped Bare

Spencer awoke to the smell of ammonia mixed with coffee grain and pancake syrup. He crinkled his nose slightly. Suddenly, his eyes caught movement in the hallway. Hermione lowered her arms from the stretch and looked over to see Spencer looking at her. The twenty five year old was frequently tempted to ask who the men's clothing belonged too. Today, she wore a man's team jersey. Gryffindor was proudly scrolled across the front in gold colors. He wanted so desperately to know the name on the back.

"Sorry about the smell," Hermione apologized. "Guest rooms finished though. Now, all we have to do is get a bed and other items like a nightstand and dresser for it…" Spencer smiled softly as she trailed off. She was lost in thoughts of how she wanted the room to look.

Hermione's bed was a California King. The wooden headboard and footboard were black to set a stark contrast to walls of her bedroom. The dresser left of the door was dark wood as well. Her walk in closet was mainly filled with dresses and button up shirts. Jeans were placed on a rack in the far right hand corner with her shoes underneath it still in the shoe boxes they came in.

While she was lost in thought, Spencer stood from the couch and stretched; he then wandered into the kitchen. He moved to fix himself a plate, but noticed that coffee and pancakes along with butter and syrup were already waiting for him on the table. A small smile drifted to his face.

~"Ronald cheated on me with the perfect person. She has no personality of her own other than to be exactly what he wants her to be. I refused to be the stay at home wife that constantly said 'yes, dear'."~ Hermione's words from the night before came back to him.

'She is his loss,' Spencer thought as he put butter on the top pancake. He knew how good she could cook when she was home and knew how beautiful she looked just after waking up. 'They are things that I would never take for granted. For a moment in time, Ronald Weasley had everything I want and he threw her away…' Spencer stopped. The way his thoughts were going sounded very much like a fool in love. Suddenly, he heard faint, familiar voices come from the living room.

"Hey!" Hermione exclaimed as she opened the door. Garcia, Emily, and JJ stood before her. "What's up?"

"We've come to steal you from Reid," Emily stated easily as Hermione allowed them access to her house.

"Speaking of Boy Wonder, where is he?" Garcia asked, looking around the living room.

"In here!" Spencer called from the kitchen.

"Where exactly are the two of you stealing me too?" Hermione asked.

"Oh you're staying here. He's going home," JJ stated. "His apartment is probably feeling lonely."

"He's not leaving until he gets done eating," Hermione stated firmly. The girls grinned.

"Of course not."

Stripped Bare

"Hermione should be here," Ron ground out through gritted teeth. Harry's body tensed as he fought down his anger. The Order of the Phoenix was gathered to discuss their next plan of action.

"But she's not," he stated evenly.

"And whose fault is that?" Ron snapped. Harry Potter's eyes flashed as the rubber band holding in his temper broke in two pieces.

As a teenager, Draco Malfoy often wondered what would break the Golden Trio. As he watched Ron and Harry go at one another's throats like a pack of wolves in the Weasley's Burrow, he regretted ever wondering it.

If he had known years ago what would cause this result, he would have lured Hermione Granger away from her men or he would have tried. Despite the situation he was in, Draco let out an amused snort. Hermione had proved time and time again when they were staying in the Head dorms that she had no interest in "ferret face".

"What are you laughing at, Malfoy?!" Ronald Weasley hissed. Draco held his hands up calmly. The surviving members of the Order of Phoenix were gathered around the Weasley's dinner table. They were all watching the exchange with varying emotions ranging from grief to amusement. The amused members were Fred, George, and Sirius.

"Hermione Granger is the glue to the Golden Trio. I kind of always thought it was Harry. But now I get it. If Harry were to walk away, Hermione and Ron would have been fine. If Ron were to walk away, Hermione and Harry would have survived," Draco stated. Despite the situation, the Weasleys couldn't help but agree with guiltily dipped heads. During the war, they had received their proof of his statement. When Ron had walked away, Harry and Hermione hadn't fallen apart. "We all played down Hermione's importance to an extent. When I really think about it though-it was you, Weasley, which played down her worth worst of all." Draco stated; his tone never changed from the calm façade, but on the inside a storm was raging. "Did you really expect her to just stick around and watch as you made a happy little family? I'm surprised she didn't leave a long time ago."

"Watch your mouth," Ron growled. Draco tilted his blonde eyebrows upward.

"Why? I'm only stating what everyone here has once upon a time thought," Draco unfolded his arms. "Even if you hadn't married Lavender or were expecting a baby with her, Hermione wouldn't have stayed." Silence fell over the Burrow. He didn't elaborate because the Weasleys knew she wouldn't have.

"You knew she was leaving," Harry accused quietly. 'It all makes sense now…' Harry realized. Draco hadn't looked surprised when he had been told Hermione left. He had simply nodded his head and walked away.

"I had my suspicions."

"Why didn't you stop her?!" Ron demanded angrily.

"She's happier there, Ron…" Harry admitted quietly. Every head turned to him. Harry looked evenly at all of them. Ron's anger seemed to deflate him.

"Great, so she's off getting her tickles while we're miserable…" Ronald mumbled.

"You have no right to be," Ginny hissed. "You got what you wanted: a stay at home wife. You have a child on the way."

Lavender Weasley, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, bowed her head. She hadn't thought of what she had been doing to Hermione. She hadn't thought of her feeling once.

~~MEMORY~~

"Ron kissed me!" Lavender squealed as she burst through the door to the sixth year dorms. Parvati Patil sent her a sharp glare then looked toward Hermione, who sat on her bed with a Muggle book in her hand. The front of it was a dark blue and said Chemistry in bright yellow letters. She gave no indication she even heard Lavender, but Parvati was not about to praise Lavender or squeal in front of the girl she considered a great friend. Instead, Parvati stood and grabbed Lavender by the arm and took her down into the Common Room. "What?" Lavender asked. "What'd I do?"

"I've never known you be so insensitive!" Parvati scolded. "Hermione was right there! You know they've had a thing going on for years!"

~~END MEMORY~~

'Years.' Lavender felt her eyes fill with tears. 'I broke up years of friendship, love, and trust simply by being too jealous and envious of what she had. I have Ron…but now…' She looked around the room at the tense and sad faces. 'Now, we have no Hermione.'


	13. Chapter 13

Stripped Bare

Chapter Thirteen

Spencer stood in his empty apartment with a small frown. He hadn't thought that he would ever prefer Hermione's home to his own apartment; yet, his home felt as though something were missing from it. He knew it was something he hadn't had before: Hermione.

The only comfort he had was that he would see her again. She had offered to wash his clothing. He had accepted, knowing that it would give him reason to see her again. With that thought in mind, he placed his satchel beside the door and sat down to write his neglected mother a letter.

Stripped Bare

Emily, JJ, and Garcia watched as Hermione gathered up the dirty laundry Reid had left in his bag and put it in the wash along with her own. JJ grinned from ear to ear while Garcia drawled out:

"Aw, it's like they're married!" Hermione's face turned red, but she acted as though she hadn't heard her. The dryer and washer were pushed against the far wall of her bathroom. The red coloring of the metal worked well with the dark red and white checkered walls. In the center of her bathroom lay a red rug to offset the white floors.

"It's weird," Hermione stated as she poured the detergent over into the water, "not living with anyone." The girls were particularly eager now. They were getting a chance to learn more about Hermione. "I was so used to living with Ginny and Harry that I didn't even realize it until I came here."

"Who are they?" Garcia asked with a tilt of her blonde head. Hermione closed the lid to the washer and turned toward the agents.

"The Potters and two of my best friends," Hermione explained. "They took me in after my boyfriend of a year cheated on me."

"Jane never told me that," JJ whispered.

"Oh, he's an ass!" Garcia exclaimed. Hermione laughed at the exclamation and stepped around the three girls. They followed her into the living room.

"Who was it with?" Emily asked.

"His only ex-girlfriend that he used to make me jealous when we were younger," Hermione stated evenly. "He learned that he was the only one who hadn't kissed anyone and went haywire." Hermione drawled.

"Oh hooo!" Emily drawled. "So, who were your firsts?" Emily teased.

"Victor Krum and Cormac McLaggen." It felt good to the witch to have girls to gossip with again.

"Were they any good?" Garcia asked, enjoying the small blush that was spreading across Hermione's cheeks.

"Victor was nice, I suppose. Cormac…reminded me of a giant squid with tentacles for a mouth…He was absolutely dreadful!" Hermione exclaimed, recalling the way he always attempted to eat her face. "But he thought he was so good at it."

"And you never corrected him?" Emily asked, incredulously.

"I'm sure my hiding behind a curtain every time I saw him coming did wonders for his self-esteem." The girls fell into waves of laughter at the drawl. Hermione laughed too. "I tried everything I knew of just to not have to get kissed again. Harry witnessed me eat these foul odor things that were being served as a delicacy. His face was so horrified!"

"What was it?" JJ asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I don't really remember the name of them."

Stripped Bare

The followers that escaped persecution were rising, joining one another in an effort to complete Voldemort's work. Pale faces were scattered around the table at the news Kingsley delivered. The squabble of before was easily forgotten.

"We fortunately know where they are hiding," Kingsley stated from his position at the head of the table. His aged hands were looped together at the fingertips. "But they're more careful now. They are less arrogant. However, those small facts do not mean that they are not large in number."

"Who is leading the resistance?" Draco bravely asked, dreading the answer.

"Lucius Malfoy."

Stripped Bare

The girls had finally gotten to the point of why Spencer had to leave: Hermione was to be dolled up. The curly headed witch stood stonily before them, demanding they let her be. Like Gideon before them, the girls were slightly intimidated.

"Do you at least have a dress to wear or a cute blouse?" Emily persisted. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"You're free to see whatever I have," Hermione stated. Garcia wiggled her eyebrows and whistled. Laughter burst from Hermione's chest. The others soon joined in as they walked toward Hermione's bedroom.

Spencer was fairing no better himself. Not long after he had sent his mother the letter, Derek Morgan burst into his apartment claiming that it "was time the nerd got laid" and that he was here to help him sweep "nerd girl" off of her feet. He was beginning to think that the girls and Morgan were working together.

Stripped Bare

Draco Malfoy felt sick. The meeting had been dismissed with the news that it would have to be Draco that retrieved Hermione. The news would stagger her like it did him.

Hermione had been the helping hand that lured him away from Voldemort's rein, but before she had he had overheard his father licking his wounds with the other defeated Death Eaters and boasting drunkenly that "bloody Potter" would not win. When he had joined "bloody" Potter's side, he had been stripped of his rights as a Malfoy. He had no money to his name other than the kind he made for himself as an Auror. He was no longer a "privileged kid" as Hermione jokingly called him during their Head days.

"She's happier there…" Harry's words kept circling around in his head. Draco cursed loudly and threw his glass full of fire whiskey against the wall of his apartment.

~~MEMORY~~

"Do you ever miss it?" He had asked one night as they rested in the Head Common Room. Hermione had looked up from the Advanced Physics book she had been reading. The lamp by her armchair provided sufficient reading light in the otherwise dark room. The light from the fire danced across the places of shadow.

"What?" She questioned from her position in the armchair. Her legs dangled off one of the arms and a pillow supported her back was on the other arm. Draco still lay where he was on the couch. His arms were behind his head; his legs were crossed at his ankles. Both Heads were the perfect picture of comfortable.

"The…adrenaline of the fight," Draco proposed. He glanced away from the ceiling and looked at Hermione's furrowed brow and set lips.

"Sometimes I do; but, more often than not, I'm content," Hermione had said.

"Content is a long way from happy," he had said. Hermione had given him a small saddened smile.

"I know." Silence had fallen on them after her short sentence. Hermione had returned to her book and Draco had drifted off to sleep.

~~END MEMORY~~

The blonde man couldn't help but hope that everyone would come from this altercation without serious was not blind to the wishes of reality, but hopeful that it would give the "good guys", as Fred Weasley had categorized them, a break.

With a small reluctant sigh, he decided that he would wait until nightfall to make an appearance into Hermione Granger's life once more.

~~MEMORIES~~

"My home will always be open to you," Hermione had said the day they were graduating from Hogwarts. Draco had taken her promise as literally as she had meant it.

~

"Draco!" Hermione had cried in surprise as she opened the door to her apartment. It was the very same night Draco had told his father that he revoked Voldemort and as proof had shown him his arm absent of the dark mark. Needless to say, his father hadn't been happy. Gashes and bruises littered every inch of his skin. "What happened?!"

~

"Can you remove it?" Draco had asked his fellow Head one night as they sat once again before the fire. This time Hermione was kneeling before him while he sat straight on the couch. His marked arm lay in her hand. Hermione nibbled on her bottom lip as she thought.

"I can try." It was the best either could hope for.

~

A month later, Hermione Granger burst into the Head's Common Room with a brilliant smile on her face exclaiming that she had found it. Blaise Zabini nearly fell onto the couch as she brushed past him. Draco had been so ecstatic that his complaining friend was forgotten. He ran to Hermione and met her halfway across the floor. He lifted her into his arms and spun her in a quick circle. Her laughter rang out through the common room. Blaise was very confused as Draco set Hermione onto her feet.

"What the bloody hell is going on?!" He demanded, but they ignored him.

"Hold out your arm," Hermione demanded. Draco pushed his sleeve up and extended his arm. Blaise watched in curiosity and muted surprise as Hermione tapped the wand to his wrist. Slowly, the mark began to disappear with an enraged hiss.

"I could kiss you, Granger!" Draco exclaimed. Hermione darted backwards.

"Please don't."

"How did you ever figure out the spell?" Draco asked after Blaise had left. Much to Hermione's amusement, he kept rubbing and looking at the arm as if he expected the dark mark to appear at any minute.

"I didn't figure it out exactly," Hermione stated as she flipped the last page to the newest book she had started. She closed it with a snap.

"Then…?" Draco pressed. He knew better than to assume that she hadn't known what she was doing when she burst through the Head's door. Hermione looked up at him and smiled smugly.

"I invented it." He promptly choked on the butterbeer in his hand. Hermione's laughter overpowered the sounds of his choking for air.

~~END MEMORIES~~

Draco shook his head roughly to expel the thoughts that ran rampant throughout his head. Harry had said that Hermione was now hanging around with Muggles involved with something called the FBI. He could give nothing away. He needed to be thinking of a cover story that was as close to the truth as possible.


	14. Chapter 14

Stripped Bare

Chapter Fourteen

"Turn around," Emily demanded. Hermione spun slightly. They had consented to let her chose her own outfit for the club. The red blouse she wore dipped down between the middle of her breasts. Much to her relief, she could still wear a bra. The fabric was thick enough to cover the checkered pattern, but light enough to not be too hot when in motion. It fell just between the back pockets of her jeans. From the waist downward, the shirt was airy enough to come up slightly if she turned quickly.

"Sexy, but modest," Garcia approved. JJ and Emily nodded.

"The pants aren't too tight," JJ approved. She wore her favorite and possibly her only pair of skinny jeans. The black fabric hugged her upper and lower legs. Hermione felt slightly odd being critiqued by the three women; but she could recall a time when Parvati, Lavender, and Ginny had all gathered in the same dorm: the Yule Ball. She had been critiqued then.

"Just enough to show off the butt," Garcia stated.

"You just love making this awkward, don't you?" Hermione drawled as she turned back around.

"Oh just face it, sweetheart, you're a sex bomb!" Garcia exploded with a sharp giggle. JJ and Emily dissolved into laughter at the shocked look on Hermione's face. "We'll head to the club after we get ready. The boys are supposed to be waiting on us!" Garcia was practically vibrating with excitement.

As the three women moved to get ready, Hermione couldn't help but look in the mirror and wonder if the girl before her was really her. She had only dolled up to this extent once in her life: the Yule Ball. She prayed that this night would end differently than that disastrous night had.

Her wild curls now fell in soft ringlets around her shoulders and flowed gently down the middle of her shoulder blades. With a small smile, she turned away from the mirror and twirled one of the gentle curls with her index finger.

Stripped Bare

"Why do I have to wear this again?" Spencer complained lightly as he stared at the stranger in the mirror. He wore a black button up shirt with the first two buttons undone. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he wore dark wash blue jeans he didn't even know he owned.

"Because the girls and I are getting tired of Granger and you dancing around one another," Morgan paused, "bad terminology."

"I got it," Spencer drawled. "Did you ever stop to think that we would get there on our own?" Spencer returned as he looked up at his friend through the mirror. Morgan tilted his head.

"Something happen last night, Pretty Boy?" Morgan asked. His eyebrows were climbing toward his hairline. "Garcia did say that you didn't eat breakfast until twelve in the afternoon. Which I'll admit is abnormal for you."

"We sat up and talked. When we finally went to bed-" Morgan wiggled his eyebrows. Spencer snorted and shoved his friend, "not like that! I still sleep on the couch! When we finally went to bed, it was one a.m."

"See, the two of you would be around the bush forever if it weren't for-"

"She kissed me last night, Morgan," that statement shut his best friend up quickly, "granted it wasn't anything like how Lilah and I kissed. She was gone before I could even process what happened but-"

"It's progress," Morgan stated. Spencer nodded. Morgan sided and ran a hand over his head. "The girls and I don't mean to seem like we don't think you won't get there yourselves…it's just…we've waited for someone like her to come along, you know? Someone you could relate with." Spencer nodded. The talk was slightly awkward for both men. "And here this intimidating, brave little British woman comes…" Spencer shared a smile with Morgan at the description. "And you're so…attracted to her. We just want to see you happy, man." Spencer smiled. "Now that all of that's out of the way, come on. The girls are waiting for us."

Stripped Bare

Hermione followed behind JJ and Emily when a sharp sting caused her to stumble. Garcia's eyes widened as Hermione grabbed the side of her head with a grimace.

"Are you alright?" Garcia asked. Hermione nodded through it and stood up straight. The pain was over as quickly as it had come. Someone had invaded her mind. Garcia accepted Hermione's reassurances warily as the entered the club.

Someone had invaded her mind and left behind a familiar signature: Draco Malfoy.

~"Sorry, Granger,"~ came the after wave. The longer the message tended to be, the pain would reside longer. Hermione nibbled on her bottom lip as she walked followed behind them.

'He was able to break through my mental shields…' Hermione thought worriedly. She had lifted them permanently after the war. 'Am I truly becoming too relaxed?' Her thought process was interrupted as she caught sight of Spencer Reid. 'Oh my…' She thought as she took in what he wore. He dropped his arms from their crossed posture over his chest.

Spencer's eyes roamed her figure with the same intensity her eyes followed his. Morgan covered his mouth to keep his laugh at bay while Garcia pulled JJ and Emily toward the table that Spencer was leaning on.

"Good job," Garcia complimented quietly. Morgan nodded.

"Same."

"Oh no, sweetness, that was all her doing," Garcia deflected. "She put the outfit together and did her hair. We just gave nods of approval."

"You mean she had that in her all along?" Morgan asked, looking the small British woman up and down. He gasped as Garcia's elbow dug into his side. "Aw, don't be jealous, baby." He teased. Garcia rolled her eyes.

"So how long you think this is going to last?" Garcia asked, motioning toward the silent nerds.

"You…uh," Spencer cleared his throat and tried again, "you look good." Morgan felt like smacking him in the back of the head but resisted. Hermione smiled.

"You look good too," she said back teasingly. Spencer smiled back at her and finally the two of them sat down at the black round table.

'You look good?' Spencer mentally berated. He glanced over at Hermione out of the corner of his eyes. Garcia had said something, but it was lost to Spencer's ears in the beat of the music playing around them. The effect of what she said, however, was very rewarding. Hermione lips were curved in laughter that tickled his ears teasingly.

Derek interrupted the conversation suddenly with a "you want to dance, Hermione?" The curly headed beauty looked over at Derek, who was grinning at her. Hermione looked back toward the floor. Derek's smile fell slowly as he received no answer. Garcia and Emily started laughing behind their hands. Hermione, hoping to save his deflated ego, jumped from the chair and grabbed him by the arm. He laughed as she pulled him away.

"None of that, you got it?" Hermione said, pointing toward the girl that was grinding against a random man. Derek nodded. Hermione held up two fingers space two inches apart. "You stay this far away."

"Got it," he confirmed. His ego was slightly bruised, but seducing her wasn't his intention. They were in Spencer's line of sight. Garcia sighed, knowing full well what Morgan was doing. Boy Wonder needed pushing sometimes. Garcia looked over at her friend to see him watching them closely.

'This might just be the push he needs,' Garcia thought.

The beat pumping from the many speakers was slow to infect Hermione, but quick to do so to Morgan. Instantly, he began to dance. Hermione had to choke by laughter as she faced him. Hermione didn't know the song, but admitted to herself that it did have a good beat. Slowly, Hermione began to dance.

Morgan's mouth nearly dropped at the way the small woman was dancing to the beat. Her hips easily began to tick to the beat. Her whole body moved like water as if surfing the beat was something that came just as naturally as her thinking patterns. Easily, she kept up. And then just as easily, she lost him. He laughed as she turned away from him. Her hair danced across his face like the wind would in a caress.

"Holy shit…" Emily gapped.

"May I move an inch closer?" Morgan asked. Hermione laughed and nodded. The infectious beat seemed to momentarily remove her inhibitions. Morgan grinned as he stepped closer. He knew the boundaries that were set. He was not to touch her.

Garcia struggled to keep her jealousy at bay. Morgan was simply doing this to push Reid along, but he looked as though he was enjoying himself a little too much. Garcia quickly looked away from them and caught sight of another observer.

The blonde headed man leaned against the stool of an empty table. On his lips tilted an amused smile. The amused smile suddenly turned one of deviousness as he kicked away from the stool and began to walk toward Morgan and Hermione.

Morgan paused as he heard a voice come from behind him.

"May I cut in?" Hermione's eyes widened at the voice. She stopped dancing and turned quickly. Morgan weighed the ups and downs of a stranger dancing with Hermione. On one hand, it would make him nervous. On the other hand, it would drive Reid crazy. But the closer Morgan looked, the more it was becoming apparent that, for Hermione, the man before them was not a stranger. In both of their eyes, amusement danced the tango. Instantly, Morgan knew Hermione had known what he was trying to do all along.

"Sure," he consented. As he walked away, Draco smirked widely.

"I gotta say, Granger, I didn't know you had it in you," he complimented. "Do I have to obey the same rules?" He asked with a small pout as Hermione's hand touched his chest to keep him at two inches. Hermione nodded. "Bummer."

"Who's that?" Garcia asked as Hermione and the unknown blonde began to dance in tantalizing circles. The blonde would come closer than two inches to Hermione; she would dance away in a fashion that made it look like a dance all on its own.

"I don't know," Morgan answered but hastily added, "it seemed like Hermione knew him." Emily retracted her cat claws and sat back down. Spencer, however, hadn't removed his eyes from the dancing couple. When Morgan had asked her to dance, he hadn't felt as though he was losing anything. Morgan knew how he felt about Hermione and knew that Morgan wouldn't attempt to seduce her; but he knew nothing about the man Hermione was currently looking very friendly with.

Draco had caught her around the waist, electing a small squeal from her lips. Spencer's eyes narrowed. Morgan grinned behind his glass.

"Is there a reason you're here?" Hermione asked as they danced. Draco knew enough about her to keep far enough away from her when they danced. He could be touching her with his hands; any other part of him would be crossing the line.

"Yes, but I'll save that for later. It appears my spot as your dance partner is about to be taken," he motioned toward Spencer Reid as he stood from the table. Hermione blushed as Draco grinned even wider. "My, my, you sure are popular tonight," he teased. Hermione elbowed him sharply in the stomach. He coughed and moved away from her. "Little Miss. Violent here is all yours," Draco stated as Spencer approached. Hermione laughed at the look of momentary shock on Spencer's face. Draco confidently walked away despite the pain in his stomach.

Garcia eager for a little taste of revenge waved to him. Draco smiled and walked on over.

"What's your name, handsome?" She asked. Draco laughed at the shocked look on the other man's face. He raised his eyebrows as he caught onto what she was doing.

"Draco Malfoy, miss." He stated as he slipped into the chair next to Emily.

"How do you know Hermione?" Emily asked, drawing his attention away from Garcia. Morgan smiled over his cup.

"We went to the same boarding school," he supplied. He tried not to let his grey eyes wander to the dance floor.

"Do I have to stay two inches away too?" Spencer asked after the blonde left. Hermione smirked and grabbed his button up shirt. She pulled him closer to her.

"You can be as close as you like," she whispered. Spencer's face darkened along with his eyes. Hermione fought the delicious shiver that rippled down her spine as he came closer.

Morgan raised his eyebrows at Spencer's brave move. Draco whistled.

"They are going to build up some hellious sexual tension…" Morgan commented. Draco nodded his agreement.

"She can be quite the tease," he commented. Every head swiveled toward him. Draco laughed at their shocked expressions. "Her house symbol was a lion. She didn't get put in that house by being afraid to take chances."

"What did her house stand for?" Emily asked. Draco glanced over at her. She elaborated easily, "Usually boarding school houses have some kind of crest." He nodded, reluctantly impressed.

"Bravery and loyalty are two of the characteristics of the house," Draco explained.

"And your house?" Garcia asked. Draco smiled.

"Cunning," he stated.

Spencer fought off a groan as Hermione's hips ground into his to the fast beat of R. Kelly's Bump and Grind. She suddenly pushed away from him and spun around. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. His hands had slipped underneath the flowing shirt. His thumbs caressed the bare skin of her waist above her navel. Hermione's gasp made him smirk slightly. The more assertive Reid had reared his confident head.

"Is this close enough?" He whispered huskily into her ear. Hermione felt her knees go slightly weak. Never one to be outdone, Hermione upped the playing field. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her hips in slow circles at each bump and grind from R. Kelly's mouth.

Morgan's mouth fell open along with JJ's, Emily's, and Garcia's.

"Go Reid…" Was all any of them could say. Draco was equally surprised, but not by the man's actions, by Hermione's behavior. While she was secretly very confident with her looks and body, she usually didn't dance so…promiscuously.

"Ron would shit a brick," Draco whistled.

"Ron?" Derek demanded suddenly. The protective side that he had for Reid was rising at the mention of another man in Hermione's life. Draco laughed and shook his head.

"Not like that, man. Ron cheated on her with some bint he had dated in school, but he would sure love to be him right now," Draco said, jerking his thumb toward the seductively dancing couple. "Hermione's as faithful as they come."

Spencer didn't know whether to be sad or thankful that the song was coming to a close. Even though she was slowly torturing him into insanity, he enjoyed the dance they shared. He enjoyed having her so close to him. He did well to hide his disappointment as she stepped away from him gracefully while the last of the notes drifted away.

"How was that for keeping up?" Spencer asked in a low tone as they walked toward the table again. He attempted to ignore his smirking friends and the stranger. Hermione smiled deviously.

"You could have done better."

"There's always the next song," Spencer returned bravely. Hermione blushed but laughed through it.

"So, Reid…" Draco tuned out the future teasing of the man sitting next to Hermione to study his friend's expression. She did look happy and relaxed. Draco Malfoy was perfectly happy to believe that her reddened cheeks came from embarrassment rather than loads of sexual tension pulsing through her tiny body.

Despite her happiness, he knew that he had to tell her tonight before she took the Muggle man home. He shuddered lightly at the thought of virginal Granger taking anyone to bed. He smirked deviously as he thought of Ron.

'How much fun I'm going to have throwing this up in his face…' He thought gleefully.


	15. Chapter 15

Stripped Bare

Chapter Fifteen

Hermione headed to the bartender's block with Garcia following closely behind her. After these few drinks, they had sworn they were going home. The team noticed Draco standing and following them. He gave them no excuse; he simply left. Spencer, Morgan, JJ, and Emily shared a look. They all knew what this meant.

Hermione laughed at something Garcia said to the bartender and moved to turn around. She nearly dropped her drink as she found herself face to chest with Draco Malfoy. Hermione tilted her head up at him and frowned at the serious, defeated look in his grey eyes. Understanding his want, she passed her drink onto the confused Garcia.

"I'll be right back," she assured Garcia as she followed Draco from the club. The blonde tech nodded and shot her thumbs up before turning and walking through the pivoting crowd alone. She knew what it meant too and she hated it both for herself and for Spencer.

"Where are they going?" Derek asked over the loud music.

"Probably to talk about the reason he's here," Garcia hollered back, "and judging by the look on his face when he popped up behind her like a sexy Houdini, it's not a good one."

Hermione had been clear that her consultant days weren't over in England so they couldn't even act surprised. They were all saddened that Hermione was going to leave again. Spencer found himself staring at the glass before him. It was only half full of Dr. Pepper.

Stripped Bare

"What is it, Draco?" Hermione asked after he had lit the cigarette he had balanced between his lips. The street lamp cast a full glow on the two as they stood at the front of the club. The cheery lines that were pasted on his face before had now fallen down. In his happiness, he resembled the eighteen year old boy he had left behind; in his sadness, he resembled the man he was to become.

"I'm here because my father is leading a revolt against Muggles. Like Voldemort, he's gathered followers. We know where one of the main houses is but we need your help-"

"You don't even have to ask," Hermione stated firmly. "Ginny and Lavender aren't going to be able to help. I'll fill they're places as well as I can." Draco nodded with a small smile.

"I knew we could count on you, Granger. Now, go kiss your boyfriend goodbye and we'll leave." Hermione flipped him the bird as she walked back into the club. Even though his tone was mainly teasing, Hermione could tell that he felt guilty for tearing her away. Hermione felt guilty for leaving.

"There she is!" Garcia exclaimed, pointing toward Hermione as she walked through the still pulsing crowd. "Oh…" Garcia whispered as she took in the look on Hermione's face. The relaxed, carefree lines they had put there were gone. She stopped before them.

"You've gotta go, huh?" Morgan asked, swirling his beer around in its glass to hide the sadness in his eyes. Hermione nodded.

"I should be back soon," Hermione reassured. Her eyes lingered on Spencer as she grabbed her coat and took a large swig of Morgan's whiskey. If they hadn't known the reason wasn't a good one, her action would have surely told them. Hermione had stated again and again throughout the night that she didn't drink. As she clacked the glass to the table top, Hermione stated: "Some of Riddle's followers have risen up in England." Fear and worry washed over their faces. Spencer moved from the bar stool and wrapped his arms around her waist. In this moment, no one would overthink the notion. It wasn't a time for shared smiles and conspiratorial whispers; it was the time of goodbye.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Spencer's waist and linked her arms at her wrists. She was content to stay there forever buried in his arms and surrounded by the light smell of his wash and shampoo.

"Come back safe, yeah?" He whispered in her ear. Hermione nodded. Her soft waves tickled his chin. Her eyes widened as the others tackled her. The force of the team's arms around her combined with the way they were leaning on her nearly toppled the usually balanced woman. "Guys!" She gasped. "Do me a favor?"

"Anything," Morgan swore. Hermione smiled softly at the saddened man. She could see Draco watching from the entrance of the club with a small frown on his usually smiling lips.

"Look like you're going to see me again," she requested. "I'm going to come back." Hermione promised. As everyone let go, Spencer's arms stayed around her. Hermione smiled up at him and touched his cheek with her free hand. Much to the shock of the group, Hermione stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Spencer chased her lips as she tried to pull away. His lips met hers gently but swiftly. He stayed for a few seconds before pulling away. Hermione smiled through her blush as he dropped his arms from around her. Then she turned and walked toward the waiting blonde man. They stood watching her until they left the club.

Morgan clapped his shoulder and stated: "Let's head home, lover boy."

"I'm sorry…" Draco apologized as they walked down the deserted alleyway to Apparate.

"It's alright," Hermione reassured. "They're my reason to come home." Draco looked over at her as she grabbed his arm.

"Home?" Draco asked, slightly saddened that Hermione didn't refer to England as her home anymore. Hermione smiled sadly at him.

"England hasn't been my home in a very long time, Draco…" Hermione statement was followed by the sharp crack of Apparition. As they twisted away, Hermione felt as though she had left a piece of her heart behind.

Stripped Bare

The Weasley family waited outside of the Burrow with the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix. A large crack sounded through the night as Hermione and Draco appeared before them. Hermione smiled awkwardly at the Weasley family while Draco tugged her forward. Ginny met her in the middle. Her brown eyes were shining with both anger and happiness.

"Hey-" Hermione's eyes widened as Ginny's hand struck her across the face. The sound echoed throughout the field. The hit wasn't hard enough to leave a bruise. It only stung, but that did nothing to subtract away from Hermione's surprise. Apparently the action had surprised her family too; choruses of "Ginny!" rang throughout the field. Ginny yanked the small woman into her arms in the next second and held her there.

"Don't ever do that again," she scolded, "if you want to leave, if you're even thinking about leaving, tell me. Tell someone! Just don't disappear…" Hermione nodded into her shoulder. Her heart tugged uncomfortably at the hurt she heard in her best girl friend's voice. Harry and Ron had gotten the chance to say goodbye, but she realized that she left the Weasleys without that type of closure.

Draco stood watching from beside the two women. Hermione declaration of England not being home kept circling around and around in his head. It led to him analyzing the whole night. She had made a tentative family at the BAU. He had gathered from their conversations throughout the night that each member cared for her in their own way.

JJ had known her longest out of the BAU members through her sister and thought of Hermione's as a younger sister. The existence of said sister, Jane Granger, struck Draco as odd. Hermione had never talked of an older sister, only of her mother and father.

Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss thought of her as a friend, but nothing more. They hadn't had the time nor chance to get to know her. In time, Draco was certain that they would take to Hermione just as quickly as the blonde tech had.

Penelope Garcia had taken the younger woman under her wing and kept her company to and from the bartender's block all night. She even hit the dance floor with the young woman once more twice. Draco could see a quick friendship between the two women building.

Spencer Reid, the classical nerd, knew more about Hermione than he let on. When they talked of the houses at Hogwarts, he wasn't curious as Muggles usually were; instead, Hermione and he shared a small secretive smile. The only conclusion Draco could come to was that the Muggle knew of their secret.

Ministry laws stated that the memory of the Muggle in question would have to be erased unless the witch preformed the Tongue Tying jinx or held a romantic relationship with him or her. The repercussions for not doing these things could be severe.

A romantic relationship didn't seem like much of a way to keep a secret, but the witch or wizard's magic bound the human to him or her. Draco furrowed his brow and wondered if Hermione had told him of it. It was similar to being soul bound except he would never be able to betray her secret even in the occurrence of divorce.

"Draco?" Hermione called for the fifth time. Molly Weasley had demanded that the future raiders stay the night at the Burrow and raid in the morning as Kingsley had planned. Only a few of the Weasleys remained outside. Hermione remained behind; she didn't want to enter the house without him. "Are you not coming inside?" Draco nodded. Hermione stared worriedly at him.

"Have you told him?" Draco asked quietly as they walked toward the Burrow together. He was aware that Lavender and Ron were following less than a foot behind them. Hermione tilted her head. "About what your magic will do when you have sex?" He asked mentally. Hermione hissed lightly at the invasion. "Sorry-" He knew that she despised it when he didn't ask for permission or give warning when he invaded her mind.

It was a system they had started when Hermione was attempting to remove the dark mark. He communicated all he knew about the dark mark and the ritual that it involved through their tentative link. Although Hermione and he had frequent migraines, they had become very skilled in Legilimency and Occlumency.

"Our conversation is being listened in on, I know. It's okay," Hermione stated. "It hasn't come up. I've told him about the ministry's laws about erasing memory and the Tongue Tying jinx, but I haven't told him about what my magic will do automatically…"

"You'll have to tell him soon," Draco stopped. Hermione followed his lead much to the surprise of Lavender and Ron. Hermione studiously stared into Draco's grey eyes. He could feel her studying the inner recesses of his mind. He only pushed what he wished her to see to the surface and locked down on the rest of his more private thoughts. They stood in outward silence as Hermione gathered the information to her and processed it herself.

"I had planned to tell him tonight. We are getting-" Hermione finally returned.

"Near the bump 'n' grind?" Draco teased. Hermione decked him on the shoulder as they walked into the house. He laughed as she snapped her shield firmly in place. "And you thought you were getting rusty." He teased again as he once again found her shields impenetrable. Hermione smiled slightly as they walked into the kitchen.

"Are you hungry, dear?" Molly asked as she spotted Hermione. Suddenly, rolls floated from the stove and onto the table. Molly smiled. "I figured you wouldn't be feeding yourself that well." The muggleborn witch smiled as she thought of the large breakfasts, ordered pizza, and occasional meals she had eaten since moving to America. She fed herself well, but to this day nothing beat a Weasley dinner.

"I wouldn't be surprised with all the dancing you did," Draco drawled from his position against the archway of the kitchen. Hermione glared over at him as every head turned in interest. Ron nearly dropped the roll he had swiped upon entering. His mouth fell open as the mental images of Hermione dancing tantalizing with faceless men flashed into his mind. He suddenly found his appetite drained. Fred gave an interested tilt of his head before looking at his twin. They smiled deviously then circled Hermione like hounds. Hermione watched the both of them closely as she bit into her own roll.

"You are looking mighty sexy, Miss. Granger," Fred commented.

"Very delectable if I do say so myself, Fred," George commented as well. Hermione fought off the blush at the twins' close scrutiny. "Why don't we remove the coat?" Hermione clutched it closer to her body.

"Oh come now, Granger," Draco joined in the twins teasing. "You paraded around in it all night at the club." Fred and George, who had been going in opposite circles around Hermione, ran into one another.

"CLUBBING?!" Molly exclaimed along with Ron and Harry. Hermione blushed and nodded. She avoided Harry's gaze and fought the urge to meet Ronald's glare head on with a smirk. Ginny and Lavender squealed. Sirius leaned forward in his chair, suddenly very interesting in the conversation.

"Well, I never plan to go clubbing." A younger Hermione Granger had sniffed one night around the Grimmauld Place table. Sirius smirked. Hermione found herself wanting to knock it off his smug face. His smile only worsened as he tipped his seat back and balanced it on two legs. Remus shook his head from beside him.

"Awesome!" Ginny exclaimed with a punch in the air. Tonks echoed her sentiment. Remus let out a small chuckle at his wife's excitement for her younger friend. Draco pushed off of the wall.

"Very successful night if I do say so myself," Draco worsened the situation. "I even got to steal a dance or two." Hermione threw her roll at his head. He grabbed it before it could hit him and bit into it. "Careful, Granger, you may just incriminate yourself."

"How would I incriminate myself? I didn't do anything to be ashamed of," Hermione stated suddenly. A smirk drifted on her face. "I don't see anything wrong with a little bump 'n' grind." Draco choked on the roll and Sirius' chair fell out from underneath him. Ron's face turned blood red and spluttered incoherent words along with his mother. Harry, who had been taking a drink of butterbeer, inhaled his drink and began to cough violently. Ginny's mouth was hanging open as she patted Harry's back. Hermione raced from the room in laughter with Molly Weasley's outraged shriek of "HERMIONE!" following her.

"Go Hermione…" Tonks complimented in a whistle. Remus was not capable of agreeing or scolding his wife for he was currently incapable of forming words. Fred and George were grinning from ear to ear but were just as speechless as their former Professor. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Fred.

"She got out of taking her coat off."

"Very clever, Granger," George complimented with a barking laugh.

Stripped Bare

Spencer Reid was stretched out on his couch reading one of his childhood favorites over again: Empty Planet by Ursula Kent. He was halfway through the book when his cell phone dinged loudly. In his haste to reach it, he nearly knocked his coffee cup from the end table. After he had his phone in hand, he scolded himself. Hermione didn't have his number. He flipped it open, considerably calmer than before.

It was true that Hermione may not have his number, but because of JJ Spencer now had hers. Mindful of his manners, he sent a quick "thank you" to JJ and scrawled the number onto the inside of his left palm. Eager to hear from her, he dialed the number.

Stripped Bare

Hermione jumped as her own cell phone rang. Without looking at the caller id, she flicked it open.

"Hermione Granger speaking," she instantly answered.

"Spencer Reid inquiring," Hermione nearly flung the book she had laid across her stomach across the room as she sat up. Like Spencer, Hermione had been reading comfortably. When the Burrow had been rebuilt, more rooms had been added on for the growing Weasley family and the Order. With Molly Weasley's permission, Hermione had designed the rooms with the same properties of the Room of Requirement. It would shift to the desires of the occupant. Since she was feeling homesick already, Hermione's room was the exact replica of her own bedroom in Virginia. Even though the setting pleased her, she knew that the room would not give her what she truly missed: the man currently on the other line of her cell.

"Spencer!" She exclaimed happily. Spencer smiled pleasantly.

"JJ gave me your number. I hope you don't mind," the confident Spencer from the club was once more buried deep. Hermione smiled softly. She could practically see him running a hand through his hair or picking at the cuff of his shirt sleeve.

"Of course, I don't mind," Hermione reassured. "I'm sorry to have left you like that-"

"It's alright, I understand," Spencer interrupted, his hand still on his cuff link. "It's not like I won't ever do it to you." Warmth radiated through her at his statement. Hermione grinned from ear to ear as a deliciously devious idea came to her.

"If it's any consolation, I was fully planning to take you home with me," Hermione fought off her laughter at the momentary silence on the line.

"Tease," Spencer joked after the silence. Hermione's laughter flowed throughout the almost silent house. Spencer Reid, states away, found himself smiling.

The only feature she hadn't been able to copy from the Room of Requirement was the complete sound proof ability. Ronald Weasley and Lavender Weasley stood outside of her room. Lavender's hand was raised to knock, but the motion had paused all together at her sentence to the Muggle man.

Ron felt his heart fall to his stomach. 'She's moving on…' Lavender's train of thought was the same as her husband's, but happier. 'Maybe….she'll be able to forgive us…'

Stripped Bare

Tobias Hankel stared down at the bodies of his latest victims and fought down the sickness that threatened to rise up. Raphael had murdered both of them and shown no emotion. Charles had applauded loudly Raphael's actions and cursed Tobias.

"The Dark Lord would be pleased…" Charles cooed. Tobias shivered while Raphael just blinked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the content from these next few chapters will be from season 2, episode 15 of Criminal Minds.


	16. Chapter 16

Stripped Bare

Chapter Sixteen

Spencer Reid gnawed worriedly on his bottom lip. The book he had been reading was lying forgotten on the coffee table. Hermione would raid that Death Eaters' hideout soon. Thousands of scenarios circled in his active mind.

"I wish there was some way I could help," he had said while they talked on the phone. He could hear Hermione's smile just as well as she could hear his frustration.

"Be safe for me until I get back," Hermione had requested. He jumped as his cell phone's shrill ring sliced through the quiet morning air.

"Spencer Reid," he answered. Hotch's voice filled the line.

"We have another case, Reid," he stated. "Be at the station in ten," he demanded.

"Yes, sir," Reid consented. He hung up the phone, but kept it in his hand. He stood from the couch and got dressed. All the while, his mind was on Hermione. 'Be safe…'

Stripped Bare

The number of Order drastically outnumbered the Death Eaters. Even knowing that, Hermione warned her section to be cautious. It would not be like in the war. The Death Eaters had traps wiring the house. Remus Lupin hid underneath Hermione's improved invisibility charm outside of the building. Where the Death Eaters had wired their own traps, Hermione had created her own. Lupin was to set those traps off at her signal.

Strategically, Hermione knew the ones Lucius would target: Draco and herself. He believed his son had disgraced him by rejecting Voldemort's mark. He believed Hermione responsible for Draco's corruption. Revenge would likely be his first move. Yet, Hermione was prepared for any scenario.

As luck would have it, Ron set off a trap. Alarms rang throughout the quiet, rundown home. The Order tensed and waited. Doors exploded off their hinges and explosion racked the hallway. As the fire burned around her, Hermione cast a bubble head charm on herself. Clean air filled it. The others quickly followed suit, but it did nothing for their vision hindrance.

Hermione narrowly dodged the killing curse and shot back blue flame. It sliced through the smoke and pulled into its core. Their path of vision was cleared. Hermione motioned for the others to keep their bubbles around them. Poisons could be in the air.

Lucius Malfoy and several unknown followers stood before her unit. Hermione could already hear the sound of a battle in the lower part of the house. They stood staring at one another for a long second. Lucius smirked and suddenly the fight was on.

The small hallway that they had arrived into became their battlefield. Walls were blown away to make room for the fighting Order members. The shock on the Death Eater's faces would have been comical had they taken the time to laugh. Lupin could see everything clearly from the camera on Hermione's, Harry's, and Draco's chests. Chips of wood rained down on the fighters as they advanced the Death Eaters.

"FALL BACK!" Lucius hollered out in a sign of retreat. Hermione would not have it. With one twitch of her finger, Lupin collapsed the wood underneath the retreaters. Lucius Malfoy dangled by a piece of protruding wood. Hermione's entire unit watched in horror as the floor crumbled out from beneath Hermione's feet. The aged wood Lucius was hanging on gave way. He grappled for a hold of something. He found his purchase on Hermione's leg.

Hermione's hands were turning white and the sharp fragments of wood dug deep into her hands. Then two white hands fell upon her slowly bleeding ones. She looked up to see Tonks attempting to pull her up. Suddenly, a new pain shot through her body. With a startled scream, she looked down. Lucius Malfoy had imbedded a knife deep inside her thigh and was attempting to climb up her. He yanked it free and moved to stab her again.

"Get off me!" Hermione exclaimed and kicked out with her other leg. The sickening crunch of Lucius' nose filled the air. Shock made his grip falter, but he did not let go. His grey eyes glinted angrily. He readied to stab her higher.

"Stupefy!" Tonks shouted. The spell slashed across Lucius' chest. As he fell he attempted to Apparate out, but found that he could not. Tonks pulled the smaller woman upward with the help of the men.

"Gather up the survivors…" Hermione commanded. Tonks kneeled in front of her friend. She ran her wand over the wound once, twice. Her eyes widened in horror as she found that it wouldn't heal. The pink haired woman bit on her lip. The knife had brushed bone. Hermione smiled softly at her panicking friend and ripped her shirt sleeve. She wound it tightly around the rapidly bleeding wound. She hid her pain well, but the faint line of sweat on her forehead showed her strain.

"Where's Hermione?" Draco asked as his team pulled the Death Eaters up from the floor. Handcuffs were slapped on their wrists. He could vaguely hear one of the men in his unit taunting that the cuffs could not be opened by their magic only by the one who created the cuffs: Hermione.

"She's dead," Lucius drawled coldly. Draco smirked at his father.

"I highly doubt that," his tone was just as cold as his father's. His eyes widened as he saw the hole in the hallway of his childhood home. Then he saw a shoe. Hermione was up there! Draco Apparated up one level. Hermione waved lightly at him. Tonks stood beside her. Draco took in the woman's horrified face. He followed her line of view and saw it. Blood was rapidly shaking through the cloth wrapped around Hermione's leg.

"How are Harry and Ron?" Hermione asked upon seeing him. Harry had led his own unit into the basement of the house. They had shown up last minute that ended the fight Draco was waging.

"Fine," Draco stated as he stooped down and lifted Hermione into his arms. She groaned lightly as the action jarred her leg. Draco grimaced at the sound. "Sorry." He mumbled.

"It can't be healed by magic," Hermione stated as he made move to Apparate. Draco grimaced. "Muggle hospital?" He asked. Hermione grimaced along with him and nodded. Ron and Harry were soon upon them along with the rest of the Order members.

"Search the house. Find anything that could hint to more followers," Hermione demanded. "Any documentation they have is still intact. They were too quick to arrive…to eager. They're hiding something."

"There have been rumors of followers in the States," Draco's temper was building velocity the longer and longer they talked.

"I know," Hermione admitted. Her tone was strained. Her skin pigment was slowly lightening. Draco's temper reached a boiling level when the newest Order member opened his mouth to talk more. He could hear small droplets of her blood hitting the dirty wood floor. Draco Apparated from the scene before any more questions could be asked.

The doctor's eyes widened in horror as a young man exploded through the hospital doors. A small curly headed girl seemed to be drifting into unconsciousness in his arms. Draco's eyes connected with the doctor's own blue ones and suddenly, the entire unit went into action.

Stripped Bare

"You were pretty hard to find you know…" Harry drawled as he sat down next to Draco. The entire Order was gathered in the waiting room. Draco didn't answer; he only blinked up at Harry. "We did find records of some kind," Harry admitted, "there were many correspondence letters between a Tobias Hankel and Lucius Malfoy posing at Voldemort."

Stripped Bare

JJ's scream sliced through the night air. Spencer's blood was chilled by the sound.

"JJ!" He shouted. A fist caught him hard across the jaw. He slammed into the leaves. Tobias Hankel stood over him. Spencer watched as the man seemed to fight with himself. He argued with himself in many different voices. Spencer watched the gun the man waved back and forth closely while he assessed the conversation. He gave one last attempt to reason. The butt of a gun to the side of his head made any further speech impossible.

His last thought was of Hermione Granger.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would be a good idea to watch Criminal Minds: Revelations since most of their side is going to come from the television show. That being said the idea for Reid's abduction and the dialogue above comes from the brilliant creator: Jeff Davis and Chris Mundy.

Stripped Bare

Chapter Seventeen

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from his struggling friend. The sheen of sweat that had first been on her forehead now covered the visible parts of her body. It soaked through the covers. Fred and George held identical postures of worry and pain.

The rip of fabric split through the quiet room as Hermione's nails once more found purchase in her sleep. Harry laid his hand over her sweaty one. The doctor's words reverberated throughout Harry's head:

~"We found a type of drug in her system…."~

~"Pain medication isn't an option. It will only increase the drug's power."~

~"Extreme pain."~

~"Because the amount of stress that it puts on the body, this drug could cause a miscarriage in pregnant women. Thankfully, we saw no signs of your friend being pregnant or even engaging in sexual activity."~

~"Whether or not she wakes up will depend on her…"~

"Come on, Hermione," Harry pleaded quietly as he bowed his head and rested it upon her hand.

Stripped Bare

A swinging light bulb stared back at Spencer. Pain radiated through his head as he steered it forward.

"They're gone." He heard.

"Who are they?" He asked as he attempted to fight off the pain in his head.

"It's just me now," the voice said again. Spencer finally opened his eyes. He was greeted by Tobias Hankel's features.

"And who are you?" Spencer watched as the man stood up from his bent state.

"I'm Raphael." He could instantly relate the name to his memory: Raphael was an archangel. He was also one of the many personas in Tobias Hankel's mind. Spencer glanced around the small area. Other than for the single light bulb, it was dark. He could feel the binds on his arms and legs. A putrid smell invaded his senses.

"What's that smell?" He asked.

"There burning fish hearts and livers." 'Raphael' stated emotionlessly. His eyes never left Spencer. "Keeps away the devil. They believe you can see inside men's minds."

Spencer shook his head lightly through the haze of fear and pain. "That's not true. I study human behavior." 'Raphael' paid him no mind. The clicks of a revolver spinning caused Reid's heart to speed up.

"I'm not interested in the arguments of men," 'Raphael' stated. He held a bullet up for Spencer to see. He swallowed. "You know what this is?" 'Raphael' asked. Spencer licked his lips. "It's God's will." Spencer watched with a climbing pulse as 'Raphael' loaded the bullet into the empty chamber and pointed it at his forehead.

"You don't have to do this," Spencer pleaded softly. 'Raphael' only stared down at him.

"I'm just an instrument of God," 'Raphael' stated. Spencer's heart sped faster as he fought the urge to cry out as 'Raphael' pulled the trigger. Vaguely, he thought he heard Hermione screaming.

Stripped Bare

Harry and Ginny lay side by side in bed. Only one person had been able to stay with Hermione at the hospital. Molly had claimed the right before anyone could speak. Harry had wanted so badly to stay, but had seen the conviction and determination in Molly's eyes. It wouldn't have done any good to argue with her.

~~MEMORY~~

"Harry," Hermione had called from the kitchen. Harry set his foot down on the floor and walked into the room. Harry handed him a piece of paper with a number and name on it. He didn't look at the number; instead, he stared at her.

"What's this for?" He asked. Hermione smiled.

"If anything happens to me, I want you to call that number." Before Harry could protest or reassure her, Hermione was gone into another room of the house. With a small sigh, Harry looked down at the paper. In Hermione's cursive script, "Jennifer Jareau" stared back up at him. The number was scrawled out to the side. He looked back toward the room she had retreated to and slipped the paper into his pocket.

~~END MEMORY~~

Harry closed his eyes. She had known something bad was going to happen. The fact circled in his mind as he slipped from his wife's arms and pulled his cell phone from the night stand.

"Miss. Jareau, this is Harry Potter. I'm a friend of Hermione's…"

Stripped Bare

JJ furrowed her eyebrows as her cell phone rang throughout the busy house. Hope rose into her heart as she thought of Reid, but she knew it to be improbable. Still, the eyes of her team mates followed her motion as she flipped the phone open. They were all furiously hoping that Reid had somehow found a way away from his torturer.

"JJ here," she answered.

"Miss. Jareau, this is Harry Potter. I'm a friend of Hermione's from England," Harry sounded defeated and tired. He sounded much like her team felt. Fear caused her to sink into the armchair. She hit the speaker button, knowing that the rest of the team would want to hear.

"What's happened, Mr. Potter?" JJ asked. The rest of her team slowly gathered around her. Garcia was to be arriving in a few hours.

"Hermione's been hospitalized…" A small choking noise came from the other line. JJ closed her eyes and began to pray silently. "She's in what the doctor believes to be a temporary coma…" JJ's mouth fell open softly. Emily squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. JJ placed her hand on top of her friend's and fought off the violent reaction she wanted so desperately to have. "She told me to call you if…if anything were to happen." He sounded strained. JJ could feel the sting of tears as they pushed over her eyes.

"When do they think she'll wake up?" Derek demanded suddenly from his position behind the aged armchair Gideon sat in. JJ could hear the creak of the wood underneath his hand. She was sure that if he squeezed any harder the wood or his knuckles would splinter.

"It depends on her…" Hot tears ran down JJ's face as the stress became too much.

"What happened?" JJ demanded again through her tears. She could feel Emily running a hand over her shoulder blades. The circles were supposed to be soothing but did nothing for her.

"A poison…or drug…entered her system through a knife wound on her leg," Harry paused to compose himself. It was as if he knew that the simple explanation wouldn't be enough. "We had rigged the house with mild explosives while the men inside lay sleeping," the team shared a brief look at Harry's confession. "It was Hermione's idea…Ron tripped a wire and set off their alarm. From what I gathered from one of her unit member, Hermione's opponents realized their disadvantage and attempted to retreat. Hermione had already sworn that those men weren't going to make it out of that building…" Derek looked at Gideon at that statement. "They'd hurt too many people to run free." His tone was slightly whimsical and pained as he continued. "Hermione gave the signal and the floor underneath them fell away. We underestimated the stability of the home. The wood underneath Hermione's feet gave way." Harry's tone was becoming more and more choked. "She was able to grab ahold of the ledge. Unfortunately, Lucius, the leader of the men, had been hanging from a piece of wood minutes before the floor gave out; he grabbed ahold of Hermione's leg to keep from falling. Tonks was able to get him off of her, but not before he had stabbed her with the knife…" Silence fell over the line and the team as they thought of what Harry had told them.

"Call if anything changes," JJ finally choked out.

"Of course," Harry promised. JJ nodded and snapped her phone closed. The effort of fighting her sobs had become too much; the stress had become too much. Derek turned his head away from his comrade as Emily wrapped her arms around the crying woman. JJ borrowed the strength Emily offered and cried into her shoulder. Gideon's expression was hard as he stood from the arm chair and connected eyes with Hotch. The ex-lawyer nodded and stood along with him. Hermione was in the hospital, in a coma; Reid was still out there with Tobias Hankel. As badly as the news had hit them, Reid came first.

Stripped Bare

Harry felt as though a part of him was dying as he recounted the story to JJ and her team. He threw his cell phone onto the night stand and buried his face into his hands. The tears he had been suppressing rose to the surface and left burning trails down his face. He could feel Ginny's soft hands rubbing circles over his shoulders and down his back. From the small sniffles coming from behind him, he knew that she was crying too. The red satin sheets bunched up around his legs and hips as he turned and took her into his arms. Together, for the first time since the war, they cried.

Stripped Bare

Remus stared at his wife as she paced the floor in front of them. Her black and pink plaid night gown flowed around her hips as paced. It only fell to her knees. The furious pace she had set allowed him small glimpses of creamy thighs. As stunning of an image she presented, he knew of her emotional turmoil. Her hair color gave away her sadness. It lacked its usual cheerful pink. It was now black as night.

"Dora?" He called gently. She stopped. Remus sucked in a breath at the tears that fell from her eyes. He stood without speaking and drew her into his arms. Her arms wrapped around him as if a second nature.

"Miscarriage…" Tonks mumbled, thinking of the small life in her womb. "God, Remus, she did it for me…" Remus pulled her closer and ran soothing circles through her hair. He did not process his wife's words.

~~MEMORY~~

Hermione touched the older woman's shoulder gently as she passed her. Tonks attempted to keep from falling at the small brush. She assumed that she looked rather silly teetering on one knee. The other was bent in an "L" shape to withhold her weight. Tonks looked up at the curly headed genius.

"Let me lead the team," Hermione requested quietly, "all of the strain won't be good for the baby." Tonk's mouth fell open. Her brown eyes glanced toward the open kitchen. No one had heard. They were too busy cramming in the last of the breakfast Molly had cooked. Remus was talking to a very animated Sirius.

"How do you…" Hermione only smiled in amusement. For a moment, Tonks was blown away at the changes that had overcome the young woman since her leaving. She held a light in her eyes that the Second Wizarding War and Ron's infidelity had extinguished. Tonks had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't just a change of scenery that brought new life into Hermione's eyes.

"You chewed George out because he grabbed the cinnamon roll you had been reaching for when there were ten others to choose from…" Hermione laughed. "I have reason to suspect." Tonks smiled softly at the sound. She had missed it just as much as the Weasleys. Out of the corner of her eye, she briefly caught Sirius' small smile. He too had missed the sound.

"Virginia is being good to you," Tonks complimented quietly. At Hermione's soft smile, Tonks' tilted her head. It was the look of a woman who was close to love and deep in fondness. Tonks attempted to hide the excitement that welled inside her.

"Not just Virginia…" Hermione mumbled. "But a man too." A wide smile spread across Tonks face. She suppressed the urge to scream out her gloats.

"Come on, ladies," Draco Malfoy called to the gossiping women.

"I expect details later," she stated jokingly. Hermione laughed and nodded her head as they walked toward the impatient blonde.

~~END MEMORY~~

"Wait, what?" Remus asked pulling back slightly from the hug. Tonks looked up at him. "She did it for you? Does that mean you're-?"

"We're going to have a baby, Remus," Tonks stated, a small smile graced her face. Remus smiled wider.

~"Because the amount of stress that it puts on the body, this drug could cause a miscarriage in pregnant women."~

The gravity of it all slowly began to sink in for Remus. It pulled the smile from his face. A flash of Tonks being in the same place as Hermione assaulted his mind. He sank back onto the foot of the bed. His hands slipped from Tonks' waist while her own rested on his elbows. He buried his head into his open palms. Tonks said nothing, only rubbed circles onto his shoulders.

"Just when I thought that I couldn't thank her enough for saving Sirius, she goes and does this…" Remus whispered.

~~MEMORY~~

"Avada Kedavra!" They heard the shout. Harry's green eyes widened in horror as the green jet of light seemed to approach his Godfather in slow motion. Remus knew he couldn't make it to his friend in time. Then suddenly, a young female voice hollered:

"Stupefy!" The spell smacked Sirius in the chest and sent him across the room. Bellatrix's curse hit the Veil. Debris raining down around them, yet the Veil still remained intact. Bellatrix's upper lip curled as she turned to face Hermione, who was still on the floor. Remus thanked her timing and shot a spell toward Bellatrix, who disappeared in a cloud of black to avoid it.

~~END MEMORY~~

Remus' eyes widened in horror as he came to a realization: "It's not the drug causing her pain…" Tonks tilted her head.

"What?" She asked. Remus slipped from the wood. Tonks stepped back as her husband walked by her. She turned to find him pacing.

"It's the curse Doholov hit her with! Back then, in the Ministry, she looked similar as she does now. It's not the drug. It's the side effects of the curses used against her. We already know that the Cruciatus curse can enhance any side effects of another Dark spell…" He could tell that his wife was now following his train of thought.

"If we can sneak in the potion she needs, then maybe she'll wake up," Tonks finished excitedly.

"Exactly!" Remus exclaimed. "I'm going to go to her home in Virginia and see if she has any there." Tonks nodded. Before he could Apparate away, she grabbed his sleeve and kissed him on the lips.

"Be careful," she requested softly. Remus smiled, kissed her forehead, and then he was gone. Tonks sank back on the empty bed. One had rested on her stomach and the other on her lips as she thought: 'Hermione's been in pain for eight years and we never knew…' She sank back onto the bed and threw one slender wrist over her eyes. 'She never told anyone…and we never thought…'

Stripped Bare

"You know they do have hotels in Georgia," Garcia stated as she walked up to the house. She vaguely noted that it looked like something from a horror movie. The entire area did. Penelope Garcia did not want to be here, but then she thought of why she was here: Reid.

"If we're going to figure out where Tobias Hankel's taken Reid, the answer's in this house. There's no sense splitting time between here and a field office," Hotch stated as he mounted the steps of the house.

'He's panicking…' Garcia realized as she followed her boss up the dangerous looking steps, 'there's something they haven't told me…'

"Right," Garcia agreed as she followed the quick moving man.

"Think of the house as a witness, if it could talk what would it say?" Hotch asked as he turned at the top of the stairs. Before Garcia could answer he was already walking toward the door. As Garcia stepped onto the porch of the house, she took a small look around.

"My guess is it'd tell us to get the hell out," she stated dryly as she walked across the small porch and into the home.

Stripped Bare

Reid sat in the cabin. Tobias had left early morning. He knew that he should be thinking of a way to escape, but all he could think about was Hermione. How was she doing? Was she okay? He leaned back against the chair and allowed himself to momentarily get lost in the memories.

~~MEMORY~~

Spencer walked around the packed airport. The people passing quickly moved out of his way; each man and woman in the crowd knew what that look meant: he was looking for someone. Then, as the final row of fell away, he saw her. For a moment, he stood taking in her figure as she stood on her tiptoes to peer over the crowd. A small smile tilted his lips. She was searching for them as hard as they were her. With that in mind, Spencer stepped forward.

"Miss. Granger?" He asked as he maneuvered through the crowd. She spun around quickly, startling the agent. He quickly found himself staring into deep amber eyes.

~~END MEMORY~~

~"Come back safe for me."~

~~MEMORY~~

"I have three in Chemistry, Mathematics, and Engineering and two bachelors in Psychology and Sociology," Spencer stated.

"Ah, Reid, no bragging!" Came the loud voice of a large black man.

"He wasn't bragging. I asked." Spencer's attention was drawn to her. Her amber eyes burned with an appealing fire as she spoke, "Forgive me for bragging, but I have two in Chemistry and Engineering and two bachelors in Criminal Justice and Psychology."

~END MEMORY~~

~~MEMORY~~

"Do I have to stay two inches away too?" Spencer asked after the blonde left. Hermione smirked and grabbed his button up shirt. She pulled him closer to her.

"You can be as close as you like," she whispered. Spencer could feel his face heat up, but the heat in his blood quickly overshadowed it.

~~END MEMORY~~

~~MEMORY~~

Spencer stood in the hallway for a moment to let the others in. Hermione was looking away from him, watching as Emily went about her work. The flash of the camera lit up the dark purple walls of her bedroom. He took the time to study her. The only thought he could muster was that even after just waking up and panicked, she was still so beautiful.

~~END MEMORY~~

~~MEMORY~~

Spencer fought off a groan as Hermione's hips ground into his to the fast beat of R. Kelly's Bump and Grind. She suddenly pushed away from him and spun around. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. His hands had slipped underneath the flowing shirt. The small contact of their skin sent a jolt through his already electrified body. When she gave no sign of protesting, he grew bold. His thumbs caressed the bare skin of her waist above her navel. Hermione's gasp made him smirk slightly. The more assertive Reid had reared his confident head.

"Is this close enough?" He whispered huskily into her ear. His whisper had the effect he desired. He felt the shiver ripple through her and the small added weight against him.

~~END MEMORY~~

'I won't break my promise, Hermione…' Spencer jumped as the door was kicked open. Tobias Hankel stood in the bright daylight with firewood in his arms.

"What are you staring at, boy?" He demanded. Inside his mind, the other halves were residing. Tobias was crying out for the man in the chair, pleading with an unhearing Charles to stop. Raphael silently sat in his corner of the mind.

Religion was only a ruse for Charles. He cared not for the human God, only for Voldemort. After all, sinners were dirty…and so were Muggles. He paid no mind that he was a Squib-the closest thing in the Wizarding World to a Muggle, useless.

Stripped Bare

Molly had fallen asleep on the edge of the bed. Arthur, who had just arrived, stood staring at the young woman he thought of as his daughter. During the night, someone had taken care to change her soaked bed sheets and clothing. They were slowly becoming soaked again as she worked to fight off the poison. Her chest heaved with effort. Her hands were once again fisting the cover tightly. Arthur had no doubt that in a few minutes more holes would litter the poor fabric.

During the night, he had looked over the notes found on Charles and Tobias Hankel. He had cross referenced their past in England. The parents were magical, but years of inbreeding had created Tobias-a Squib.

Charles had left England after his wife had left him and Tobias alone, but not before alerting the one he served: Voldemort. The letters he had read from Charles' end said that neither the boy nor he knew of Voldemort's death. Arthur closed his eyes and leaned against the archway of the door.

They had no reason to pursue the Hankels. As far as Arthur or the Order knew, they were only guilty of associating with Voldemort and his followers.

Stripped Bare

Hermione could only feel the fire in her veins. She knew her body was shaking underneath the pain and cursed herself for not bringing her medicine along. She thought she would be fine. She prayed helplessly that someone would think to go retrieve it. Silently, she continued to scream.

Stripped Bare

~~MEMORY~~

"You're weak." His mother hissed to his father. She struck forward as she spoke the words. Spencer watched in muted horror as his father stared with numb eyes.

"You're right." His father turned to him. Spencer drank in the last glimpse he would ever have of his father's face. "Goodbye." He cast one last look at Diana and stepped out of the door.

"I'm not weak…" Young Spencer promised to his unmoving mother. Her arms were crossed firmly, but she still managed to look weak.

"I know, honey," Diana cooed as she took her son into her arms. Spencer wrapped his arms around his mother.

~~END MEMORY~~

"I'm not weak! I'm not weak! I'm not weak!"

"I don't give a damn whether you're weak or strong," Charles vowed circling a semi-conscious Spencer. The drug had taken ahold. He could not see him. He could only see the darkness behind his eyelids and the memory of his mother. He could hear the mumbles of the man and the scream that followed, but he cared little.

Stripped Bare

"Tobias Hankel. I haven't thought about that boy in probably ten years," the sponsor told Emily and JJ as he handed back the piece of paper.

"So, you two were in a program together?" JJ asked. The man nodded his head.

"Yeah, I was his sponsor." He said. "Small town, we all get lumped together. Me, I was just a drunk, but Tobias, he was a whole different sort of animal."

"So, what was Tobias' drug of choice?" Emily asked.

"Dilaudid," He stated.

"Drug store heroin…" Emily commented with a small nod. Neither women wanted to think of what that would mean for Reid.

Stripped Bare

"Garcia, I need you to log into the system as Tobias' father," Derek commanded gently. Garcia's eyes never left the screen.

"System was set up three months ago, dad was already dead," Garcia stated, looking back and forth at the screens. Derek allowed a small smile of fondness. Garcia was in pure work mode. Derek's hand fell over her shoulder. He rolled his hand over the skin there. The fond smile fell as he noticed the coiled state of her muscles.

"I know that, smarty pants, but do it for your boy here alright?" Derek requested, removing his hand from her shoulder.

"Okay," Garcia mumbled.

"Charles Hankel," Derek stated. Typing broke the silence in the room. The screen flicked to explosions, violence, the constant reassurance a religious man would need.

"Wow…" Garcia stated. Her eyes were wide in narrowly muted horror.

Stripped Bare

Inside the shack, 'Charles' Hankel grabbed Reid's hair and pulled his head upward. Spencer gave small sounds of protest.

"You ready, boy?" 'Charles' asked.

"Ready for what?" Spencer asked, stretching out his legs. He suppressed a wince at his bruised feet.

"My weakling son thinks God gave you to me for a reason," 'Charles' stated. Spencer looked up at him. "Let's see if we're both right." 'Charles' came up behind his chair and twisted Spencer around. He then placed a camera facing him. Spencer fought off his confusion and dread. 'Charles' was plotting something, he knew. Charles could hear a small crunch of paper in the man's pocket. Someone had written to him. Someone else seemed to be calling the shots from afar. This wasn't about God as 'Charles' claimed, but for someone else entirely.

Suddenly, back at Tobias' house, the screens on the computer went black. Garcia paused.

"What happened?" Derek demanded looking back and forth at the screens.

"Uh…I don't…" Garcia whispered. Then, suddenly, images of Reid appeared on every screen. Garcia's mouth fell open in horror. "Oh my God!" Derek ran to the door.

"GUYS! GUYS! GET IN HERE!"

Stripped Bare

"You really see inside men's minds?" 'Charles' asked. Spencer glanced up at him. "See these vermin?" He asked. Spencer glanced toward the computer screens. "Chose one to die and I'll let you chose one to live."

"No," Spencer said softly.

"I thought you wanted to be some kind of Savior," 'Charles' commented as he stepped away from the computers and to the edge of the camera.

"You're a sadist and a psychotic break. You won't stop killing. You're words are not true." Spencer stated. Spencer watched as Tobias looked down at the camera.

"The other heathens are watching. Choose a sinner to die and I'll say the name and address of the person to be saved."

"I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains like a poacher," Spencer's eyes flicked to the camera and back to him. He prayed that they would get his message as the 'Charles' strode toward him. He grabbed onto Reid and pulled him as far as his binds could allow.

"You can really see in my mind, boy?" 'Charles' demanded, "Can you see I'm not a liar?! Choose one to die and save a life. Otherwise, they're all dead." He threw Spencer back into the chair.

"Alright," Spencer gasped. The spinning room took the bravery away from his tone. He was aware of his concussion. 'Charles' read off the name and the address.

He could tell when 'Charles' changed. 'Raphael' now stood before him. The others were forced to watch as the screen went black.

"You've done your part," 'Raphael' stated. "Now, it's my turn."

Stripped Bare

"You know, I always take advantage of Reid for his brain, but I never really taught him how to deal with things emotionally," Hotch stated in the living room of Tobias' house.

"Lead by example," Gideon stated.

"And what kind of example is that?" Hotch asked. A moment of silence fell over them after that.

"He'll make it," Gideon swore. He watched as Hotch turned and walked away. For a moment, he allowed his thoughts to linger on Hermione Granger. Spencer could not find out while he was imprisoned. If there were any chance she might not make it, Gideon didn't know how the young man would react. Would he fight harder to get to her side or would he give up? Gideon didn't know and he dreaded to find out.

Stripped Bare

Remus grabbed the vial gently in his hand. He had spent long enough searching her home for it. The color of the potion varied slightly from the ones Madame Pomfrey made. Remus smiled softly and shook his head. She had no doubt added a type of extract to lighten the tang. Remus Apparated out of her home with the vial clutched tightly in his hand.

Stripped Bare

The virus warning popped up on Hankel's screen. Rage filled him.

"No!" He exclaimed as he stood. The chair toppled to the floor with a thud. "No!" Spencer watched as he turned to him. He raised his eyebrows slightly. Fear was slowly climbing within him. "They're trying to silence my message!"

"I can't control what they do! I'm not with them! I'm with you," Spencer stated.

"Really?" 'Charles' asked as he turned back toward the computers. He tapped the keyboard once. Gideon appeared on the screen. The message he had sent to Reid played again as Hankel turned to him. Spencer's fear climbed higher as he realized Gideon's message of reassurance might very well be his death sentence. With one tap to the keys, Hankel shut the screens off. He began to walk toward Spencer again. "You think you can defy me?" 'Charles' asked.

"I don't know what he's talking about…" Spencer pleaded lightly.

"You're a liar!" 'Charles' exclaimed angrily. Spencer watched as his wide eyes fell downward to Spencer's arm. He tensed. 'Charles' knew. He grabbed Spencer's arm violently. "You're pitiful!" He exclaimed as he dropped it. "Just like my son!" 'Charles' turned and walked away from him. He flicked the camera on again and looked at the near crying Spencer. "This ends now. Confess your sins." 'Charles' punched Spencer at his silence. "Confess!"

"I haven't done anything!" Spencer cried. 'Charles' only hit him again. Pain exploded through Spencer's head as his body jerked to the side. "Tobias, help me." He tried.

"He can't help you. He's weak!" 'Charles' hissed. Spencer whisper of "Tobias…" was quietly as 'Charles's' voice overpowered his own. "Confess!" At his silence, 'Charles's' fist came down upon him again. His head snapped the side again.

Garcia was near tears as she was forced to watch 'Charles' tilt Spencer's head back by his hair. They could hear Spencer's small whimpers. "Confess your sins." 'Charles' whispered. At his silence again, Charles tipped Spencer's chair backward. It banged the floor twice.

Then Spencer started to convulse. Spencer's eyes rolled back in his head.

"That's the devil vacating your body," 'Charles' observed. Suddenly, Spencer paused all movement.

Stripped Bare

Molly's eyes widened in horror as a loud beeping awoke her. Then, she felt the spastic jerking of the bed. Her head snapped up to see Hermione's body jerking wildly. A doctor and nurses barreled into the room.

"Ma'am, step over here, please," one of the nurses requested gently. Her small hand touched Molly's arm. Molly moved over as she said.

"What's happening to her?" Molly demanded as she watched the girl she thought of as a daughter convulse violently. The rest of her family had parted like the sea outside and were now staring in the windows of the room. She vaguely caught Tonks' horrified gaze.

"She's seizing…" the doctor said. His tone was bordering on panic. Foam began to come from Hermione's mouth as her body jerked harder. The doctor placed a gloved finger in her mouth to hold her tongue to keep her from choking. "GET A CRASH CART IN HERE!" The doctor demanded as her heart rate climbed higher. She began to convulse harder against him. The doctor and another male nurse held her arms to keep her from hurting herself.

The crash cart rolled in just as her heart beat faltered…and flat lined.

Stripped Bare

"He was a sinner," 'Charles' said. He paced a few steps away.

"You haven't proven that," Tobias returned.

"They all are in the end."

"God gave me him for a reason," Tobias tried.

"Our work is done." 'Charles' hissed.

"I can save him!" Tobias realized.

"How?" 'Charles' demanded. "By breathing a killer's breathe into his body?" Tobias bit into his bottom lip and choked out a small sob before he turned and ran back into the house. He didn't know if it would work, but he had to try.


	18. Chapter 18

Stripped Bare

Chapter Eighteen

Molly and Arthur watched in shock as the doctor sliced Hermione's gown open and separated the fabric. Arthur turned his head away, but Molly found she couldn't. Even as the awful noise of the pads being charged reached her ears.

"Clear!" The doctor stated as he placed the pads onto her chest. A shock rippled through her body. It pulled her chest upward from the bed. The doctor and Molly looked over at the screen. Nothing.

Outside, Ronald Weasley fell to his knees and prayed. Fred and George leaned against one another. Harry was numb and Ginny was sobbing against his chest. They didn't have to be Muggle to know what 'flat line' meant. Hermione's heart had stopped beating. Lavender had sunk down on the wall.

"Charge!" He demanded again. Once more, her body jerked from the bed. Nothing. "Charge!" The doctor demanded. The nurses looked at one another but did not protest. He placed the pads against her chest again. Once more, her body jerked upward.

Stripped Bare

Spencer began to cough violently as life was forced back into him. He was aware of Tobias kneeling beside him. His whole body ached, but he was able to process the words he could see: Jackson. 999. It was cemetery stone.

Stripped Bare

Light flooded through Hermione's eyelids and an annoying beeping reached her ears.

"She's back," she heard a man sigh in relief. The pain in her chest quickly overshadowed the pain in her body. For the moment, she was awake. For a moment, she could see. A doctor leaned over her. She could hear Molly Weasley's voice demanding if she were alright. She could hear the nurses gently shooing her away and felt the hands of a female gently helping her from the bed. Darkness clouded her sight again.

Stripped Bare

"You came back to life," 'Raphael' stated to Spencer, who was still on the floor.

"Raphael," Spencer recognized. His tone was hoarse from the pain of dying.

"It can be only one of two reasons." Spencer fought his confusion as he watched the man's brow furrow.

"I was given CPR," Spencer stated.

"There are no accidents. How many members are on your team?"

"Seven," Spencer stated from the floor. He excluded Hermione, he knew. Whatever this man was planning he didn't want her involved. He wanted her safe. He listened as Raphael recited a verse from the Bible about seven angels. He grabbed the back of his chair went he was finished and set him back up onto the floor. Spencer nearly toppled forward again before straightening back up. He was so tired…

"Tell me who you serve," 'Raphael demanded.

"I serve you," Spencer lied.

"Then choose one to die," Raphael commanded.

"What?" Spencer asked. Horror filled him at the demand. The faces of his team flashed through his head. All wore some type of smile.

"Your team members…choose one to die."

"Kill me," Spencer chose. In that moment, he realized that he had forsaken his promise to Hermione. He prayed she would understand.

"You said you weren't one of them," 'Raphael' threw back.

"I lied," Spencer continued bravely.

"Your team has six other members. Tell me who dies." Spencer shook his head underneath the pressings of 'Raphael.'

"No," Spencer vowed. 'Raphael' raised the revolver to Spencer's forehead.

"Choose and prove you'll do God's will," 'Raphael' commanded.

"No," Spencer stated again. 'Raphael' pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Spencer fought off his sigh of relief and waited for the second.

"Choose," 'Raphael' demanded again.

"I won't do it," Spencer persisted once more. He met 'Raphael's' stare bravely. He pulled the trigger once again. Nothing happened.

"Life is a choice," 'Raphael' insisted.

"No," Spencer stated again, still staring into the man's eyes. Once more the gun clicked. Empty.

"Choose," 'Raphael' repeated. Realizing only one chamber was left, Spencer finally caved. A brilliant idea had formed in his head.

"I choose Aaron Hotchner. He's a classic narcissist," Spencer stated as 'Raphael' lowered the gun. "Thinks he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23.4." Spencer went on to quote the wrong verse and he prayed that his team would understand. 'Raphael' pointed above Spencer's head and shot the bullet out. Spencer hunkered down as the sound rippled through his eardrums.

"For God's will," 'Raphael' stated as he reloaded the gun.

Stripped Bare

Molly and the rest of her family were now crowded in the small hospital room. They had only just reentered. Molly hadn't left quick enough. She still saw the burns on Hermione's bare chest.

According to the nurses, Hermione had been awake for a few moments but had drifted back into the coma. Her heart beat continued strongly, much to the doctor's and the Weasley family's relief. They looked away from Hermione as Remus entered the room. He waved his wand out of the view of the cameras and the hospital personals.

"What are you doing?" Molly hissed.

"Will you move for a minute, Molly?" Remus requested without answering. "I believe I have found the solution." Molly thought of what he had said. A solution meant that Hermione would wake up. "Our girl never told us that she had side effects from Doholov's curse." Remus spoke as he opened Hermione's mouth with his thumb. He tipped the potion into her mouth and messaged it down her throat. "She has vials filled with this in her nightstand. From what I could tell, she took them each day. I'm guessing she neglected to bring a vial with her on the mission."

"The seizing…" Molly whispered, realizing what had happened.

"Came from the pain in her nerves, I'm assuming," Remus finished. "Doholov's spell was a watered down Cruciatus Curse, but left the receiver with side effects. They are estimated to fade after twelve years assuming the receiver lives that long." At the surprised looks of his friends, Remus hurried to elaborate. "Doholov underestimated our nurse and Hermione."

"A lot of people seem to do that," came a hoarse voice from the bed.

"Hermione!" Everyone exclaimed. Ginny let out a small cry of relief as Harry, Ron, and she latched onto their friend. Hermione gasped in pain. Instantly, the trio let go of her. Hermione smiled softly at them all.

"I'm happy to see you too."

Stripped Bare

Spencer drank the water Tobias offered.

"Tobias? That you?" Spencer asked weakly. His throat still hurt and his body was still exhausted from the death experience and the beating he had suffered. Tobias nodded.

"Yes," he stated.

"Thank you," Spencer thanked with a small nod. "You saved my life." He continued. Spencer studied the look of quiet remorse on Tobias' face with a slight growing unease. Tobias had yet to look at him. It was unnerving to know that Tobias could leave him just as suddenly as he had come. He hated that so many twisted persons fought for dominance of Tobias' mind. Tobias didn't deserve this, but neither did the people his alternates slaughtered.

"I'm sorry," Tobias apologized quietly. His brown eyes flicked up to Spencer's face then back down at the black cup in his hand.

"Why?" Spencer asked, suddenly battling fear again.

"He'll win in the end," Tobias mumbled, once more looking up at him. Spencer knew that Tobias wouldn't fight against his "father". He briefly wondered how Tobias would have turned out if he had been able to seek therapy or some kind of help. For a moment, he thought of his mother. She was being taken care of. Could Tobias have gotten that?

"Tobias, I need to know something. It's important." Spencer requested as he listened to him moving around. He had to get this out quickly for he had the suspicion that he was about to be drugged again. "Are we in a cemetery?" He asked looking up at the finally stilled Tobias. Tobias nodded. Spencer allowed himself a small smile of relief. His team would come.

"I used to come here to get high," Tobias explained as he readied the needle again.

"I was right," Spencer congratulated himself as Tobias once more bound his arm.

"No one bothers you here," Tobias added, glancing up at Spencer before going back to his work. Spencer realized with a flash of unease that he didn't fight the needle anymore. He welcomed it.

~~MEMORY~~

"What are these men doing here?" Diana Reid asked as she looked up at her son. Spencer was aware of the men standing on either side of his shoulders.

"They're from a hospital. They're here to help," Spencer explained with a slight swallow.

"I don't need help," Diana insisted, "You can't be here without permission. Tell them, Spencer." Spencer's heart broke slightly as he prepared himself.

"I called them," he spoke softly. His tone was slightly choked. The reaction was instant. His mother lifted her head from her writings. Her face showed the betrayal he was sure she felt on the inside.

"Spencer…" His name was loaded with pain. Spencer swallowed.

"I'm doing this for you," Spencer reasoned. He glanced away from his mother only to glance back. He had to watch. It was his punishment.

"This isn't legal!" Diana exclaimed, shaking her head in apparent denial.

"Your son's eighteen, ma'am," one of the men beside him spoke. Spencer didn't look over at him; his eyes were fixed on his mother's distraught face. "He can act in your welfare." She looked ready to cry as she turned her eyes away from him. She licked her lips slightly.

"You need help," Spencer stated. His tone was choked. Watching his mother hurt was hurting him. She looked away from him and back down at the table. She allowed a small cry to come from her lips. Spencer felt his heart crack into.

"I wanna stay here," she cried, placing her head into her hand. The large man to his right looked over at him. His expression was close to pity. Spencer swallowed.

"I'm sorry," Spencer apologized quietly. They stepped toward her.

"Please," She cried holding up her hands, "these are my things. This is my life." The men grabbed her arms gently and pulled her from the chair. Spencer fought off tears as he forced himself to watch the scene. He stepped aside as they helped her past him. He licked his lips and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Spencer, please don't do this to me!" His mother pleaded again. Spencer kept looking at her even as his heart was breaking further. He finally looked away as she disappeared from the doorway. He allowed his tears to fall.

~~END MEMORY~~

"I'm so sorry," Spencer whispered, still caught up in the memory. "I'm so sorry," he repeated.

"What are you sorry for, boy?" 'Charles' asked. His eyes fixed unsympathetic on the man in the chair. 'Charles' cared not for the game he was playing. He only relished in the kills he made. 'Raphael' cared not for the game. Neither 'Raphael' nor Tobias could appreciate the art 'Charles' made. The Muggles' deaths were slightly poetic.

Even as a boy, Tobias was weak. He couldn't withstand watching a Muggle whither under the pain of a watered down Cruciatus Curse. It was the only way he avoided the English or American Ministry's laws. He still hadn't thanked Doholov for the spell. He hadn't ever gotten to test it on his son. The little dumbass had broken his wand before he could. Charles had beaten him into submission.

"I sent her away," Spencer admitted.

"Who?" 'Charles' demanded. Spencer swallowed as he relived it.

"My mom," he admitted. "I couldn't…I couldn't help…" The effects of the drug were slowly wearing off. He was becoming more conscious.

"Is that a confession, boy?" 'Charles' asked. Spencer couldn't answer vocally; he could only nod. He took a few deep breathes to banish his saddened emotions.

"I confess." Spencer finally muttered.

"You know your Bible?" 'Charles' asked. The ruse he had kept up around his son and this shit for a town helped him well. His oddities were passed off as the ramblings of a religious old man. The Dark Lord would congratulate him for ability to weave the Muggle mind. "Exodus 21.17."

"And he that curses his father or his mother shall surely be put to death," Spencer recited as he became fully lucid. Horror built in him as he realized that he had sealed his death sentence in a drug induced stupor. 'Charles' left the wall and clapped his hands together. Spencer sat like stone as 'Charles' removed the handcuffs from his wrists. Spencer looked over at him when they were fully off. He watched him stand.

"Grab a shovel," 'Charles' demanded of the still shocked Spencer. A flash of a funeral entered his mind. He could see Hermione and his team crying over his empty coffin. He swallowed as he stood on shaky legs and grabbed the shovel from inside the shed. With a somber face, he followed Hankel out into the cemetery.

The only sound in the empty place was the slice of a shovel through the dirt.

"I'm gonna bury you alive in there," Hankel explained as he watched Spencer dig. Spencer's body tensed, but he continued to dig. "Give you time to think about what you've done." Spencer noted that he sounded entirely too gleeful about the whole thing.

"I know what I've done," Spencer stated as he stopped. He propped his elbow up on the shovel handle and looked up at 'Charles.' His voice cracked slightly because of the strain.

"Don't talk back to me!" 'Charles' demanded. "Dig." Spencer began to dig again. "Dig faster!" 'Charles' commanded. Spencer leaned against the shovel and shook his head.

"I'm not strong enough," it hadn't been a jab to his own physical size. He was strong enough to dig a hole when he was well fed and had proper sleep, but his body was protesting every move he made.

"You're all weak!" 'Charles' exclaimed as he shrugged his jacket off. Spencer saw the lights as he approached. "Get out of there," he demanded as relief filled Spencer. As 'Charles' followed Spencer's line of sight, Spencer reached over and grabbed the gun from the ground. At the sound of the gun, 'Charles' turned toward him. Spencer stared back at him. "Only one bullet in that gun, boy," 'Charles' taunted as he stepped toward him. Spencer didn't falter. He only pulled the trigger. The bullet connected with his harasser's chest. Spencer climbed from the hole as quickly as he could.

"REID!" He heard Derek scream as he limped toward Tobias Hankel's fallen body.

"You killed him," Tobias said, as if relieved. Spencer's eyes widened in horror.

"Tobias," he whispered.

"There he is!" He heard Hotch.

"You think I'll get to see my mom again?" Tobias asked Spencer. Spencer swallowed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He looked up as the lights approached him. Hotch kneeled beside him.

"Reid?" He called softly as he helped him up. "You alright?" Spencer grabbed his shoulder lightly.

"I knew you'd understand," Spencer stated in relief as he hugged Hotch. Hotch returned his hug. JJ hugged him next as he wobbled.

"I'm so sorry…" JJ whispered.

"It's alright," Spencer reassured as they swayed. "It's not your fault," he soothed. JJ pulled slightly away from the hug and held him up as Gideon approached him. He passed shoulders.

"Let's get you out of here," Gideon requested. Spencer stood still as his team moved away. Gideon moved to help him along.

"Guys, can I have a minute?" Spencer requested of Gideon. Gideon turned away from him as the team watched. Spencer limped toward Tobias and knelt down next to him. He cast one look at his face and dug the drugs out of his pocket, then put them in his own.


	19. Chapter 19

Stripped Bare

Chapter 19

Spencer lay awake on the plane. His mind was reeling now that he had time to think of things other than making sure he made it out of that shed…those woods…alive. His arms were crossed comfortably in front of him. His feet were propped up on one of the plane’s couch cushions. His bruised foot still throbbed uncomfortably. Derek sat across from him. He was aware of his team watching him, despite how sneaky they seemed to think they were being about it. 

Their attentions only made him feel more pathetic and wary. The vials of Dilaudid pressed against his side reminding him of his weakness, his addiction. He felt as if they could see straight through him. 

For instance, Derek was sneaking a look at him out of the corner of his eyes. JJ was attempting to make it look as though she was paying attention to the file in front of her, but her eyes would flick upward to him. Gideon and Hotch seemed to be speaking in low tones. The whole plane tensed as one loud word slipped from Gideon’s mouth: Hermione. All pretenses of comfort vanished for Spencer. He quickly noted the look of horror on his team’s faces. The only one that looked as confused as him was Garcia. 

“What about Hermione?” Garcia asked before Spencer could. She moved to stand. JJ bit into her bottom lip and looked toward Hotch and Gideon. In that small minute, Spencer had stood. He paid close attention to shift his weight from his bruised foot. The look the two men shared was enough to get his heart beat accelerated. Something bad had happened. 

“Hermione was injured in the raid…” Gideon said softly. His hands that had been sitting on the table fell to his sides as he turned to face the boy he thought of as a son. Spencer’s pale face greeted him. “She’s…in a temporary coma.”

“How bad was the injury?” Garcia whispered, looking away from Spencer’s white face. Spencer hung onto their every word. He felt fear, panic, and worry swirling around inside him. He sank down into the chair across JJ. The blonde woman reached over the table and placed her hand on his. She squeezed it softly. His eyes never moved from the tabletop. JJ’s heart pulled uncomfortably for her best friend. She did not move her hand. 

‘The only thing that got me through that hell was the belief that Hermione was alright…that she was be in Virginia waiting for me to return like she promised.’ Spencer thought. His fists clenched as two words repeated in his head. ~“Temporary coma…”~ He could feel JJ’s hand mold to fit the motion. Spencer listened with dread as Hotch recalled the story of her injury from memory. Spencer hated his ever so imaginative mind at that moment. He could picture it all. A shiver ran down his spine; his nails dug harder into his skin.

“Harry promised to keep me updated if something were to change…” JJ added in a quiet whisper. Finally, his attention was pulled from the tabletop and to his team. “He hasn’t called yet…” Spencer looked from JJ to the rest of his team. Morgan seemed to deflate at the end statement. Emily’s eyes were locked on the tabletop in front of her. Gideon and Hotch were looking at him. 

“So call him,” Spencer’s demand sounded raspy even to his own ears. “I have to know, JJ….” He whispered. Hotch swallowed and looked away from the youngest member of their team. He couldn’t imagine how he would be reacting if it were Haley in Hermione’s place. Silently, Hotch reminded himself that Hermione wasn’t Spencer’s wife. She was just someone close to him…close to all of them. However, it would be careless and frankly dumb to assume that Hermione didn’t mean more to Spencer. Hotch could see it, even if the geniuses couldn’t. Spencer was slowly falling in love with the consultant. “I have to know…” He repeated. Hotch closed his eyes, but sincerely wished he could close his ears. He had believed that listening to and watching Spencer being beaten by Tobias Hankel was hard, but this…he believed was harder. This…the team could do nothing about. It wasn’t a UNSUB this time…

Stripped Bare

After their group tackle, the Weasleys, Potters, Black, and Lupins backed off of Hermione. Harry had kept a tight grip on her bandaged hand even as he sat down. At her jerk, he quickly let go. Hermione smiled sheepishly at him; he did not return it. This had been too close of a call. 

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of Hermione’s pale face even as she looked at him. He couldn’t shake the sound of a flat line out of his head or erase the image of her body being lifted up off the bed by the force of the shocks. ‘Maybe…she’s better off in Virginia…’ He thought dejectedly as he recalled the bright smile she had graced him when he showed up at her front door. ‘So different from all the times before…’

~~MEMORY~~

Harry raised his fist and knocked firmly on the door. Hermione had left their flat shortly after dinner. Ron had attended with hopes to win her back. Before Ron’s infidelity, they would gather around the television after dinner and watch whatever movie tickled the girl’s fancy; now, a tense atmosphere hung about the place.

Harry couldn’t help but be proud of her though. She had kept her head high the entire dinner. She hadn’t cried. She hadn’t hit him. She had just sat there calmly beside him. But now that he looked back on it, he grew worried. It wasn’t the Hermione they had grown up with. Hermione expressed her anger. 

Harry moved to knock again just as the doorknob turned. He lowered his hand quickly as it opened. An expressionless Hermione greeted him.   
“I’m fine, Harry,” Hermione said as she opened the door further to let him in. Harry walked into the cozy apartment as he closed the door behind him. “I’m fi-ne...” Her voice cracked softly. Harry spun on his heel at the noise. He had heard it many times when Ron abandoned them in their tent. She was trying not to cry. “I’m fine….” She repeated. Harry’s eyes softened in sadness. 

“You don’t have to be so strong…” Harry promised as he opened his arms to her. He wasn’t surprised when Hermione crumbled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and cuddled her head in between his neck with his chin. 

To an outsider, this would look like a romantic embrace. It wasn’t. During the war, when the pain would become too much Harry sought her for comfort. Ron’s abandonment had been weighing heavily on the both of them. They had felt guilty for leaving the Forest of Dean. Harry had begun to cry from the pressure of it all. Hermione had slipped from her bunk and held him to her. That night, she had been the strong one as she had many times before. It was time, Harry knew, that he returned the favor. 

~~END MEMORY~~

Harry’s green eyes had gone unfocused. Ginny nibbled her bottom lip as she stared at her husband who had yet to move his eyes from Hermione. Though Hermione and he had grown a lot closer during the war, mainly after Ron abandoned them, Ginny couldn’t find it in herself to be fearful that his feelings were swaying elsewhere. She only felt worried for her husband. They were pulled from their thoughts by Ron’s low, yet angry, voice.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” He asked. Hermione looked over at him. Ronald stood with his arms crossed in front of him as he glared down at her. Hermione’s mind flashed backward to that night horrible night in the Forest of Dean when the Trio threatened to break apart. Ronald’s expression was the same as it had been then: angry and hurt. 

“Tell you what?” She asked, dreading the answer. The symptoms of Doholov’s curse had aided in her drug induced coma. The pain in her nerves coupled with the drug still in her system had created a rather dangerous concoction. Hermione furrowed her brow. Although both of those factors were dangerous, it still didn’t explain the reason why she flat lined. 

“That you were in pain...” Ginny answered softly, “and had to take medicine for it since fifth year…” Hermione fell silent and looked at each of her friends gathered in the room.

“How would you approach a subject like that?” Hermione questioned softly. Ron opened his mouth to argue, but the shrill ring of Harry’s cell sliced through the air. Hermione looked over at him as did the rest of the family. He blushed lightly and stepped from the room. 

“Hello?” He answered as he leaned against the wall opposite the window to Hermione’s room. His blood pressure was steadily rising the more he watched Ron fight with Hermione. While she was silent, her heart monitor was not. Her heart beat rose with her emotions. 

Stripped Bare

Spencer sat in the chair across from JJ. His uninjured foot bounced his leg up and down. The force of it shook the small table. Morgan quickly pulled his Coca Cola off the table before it slipped off the edge of the table. Emily suppressed her grin at the motion. Now was not a time to smile. 

“I was just about to call you,” the British man said, “Hermione woke up a few minutes ago.” A collective sigh of relief filled the plane. “I would put her on the phone…but she’s in no position to talk right now…” It was understandable, Spencer soothed; however, all of his efforts were soon diminished when the sound of a rapid EKG machine reached drifted into the silent line. Hermione’s heartbeat was escalating fast. 

“What’s going on over there?” Spencer demanded. Morgan winced at the raspy tone Spencer’s voice still held. He could practically see the unknown British man furrowing his eyebrows in confusion on the other end of the line.

“Dr. Reid?” He questioned. Harry briefly wondered what had happened to the man to make his voice become so rough. ‘It sounds as if he’s been screaming…or that it hasn’t been used…’ He shuddered lightly as he thought of Hermione’s own rough tone. 

“Yes, Mr. Potter,” Spencer answered. The team shared a look. “Now, will you please tell me what’s going on?” 

“Ron’s about to get kicked out of the hospital room for aggravating a patient,” Harry explained as a small blonde nurse stepped around him and stood at the jarred door.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask that you leave the premises,” she said as she stared at Ron. She turned her head away from the fuming redhead and spoke to the woman in the bed. “Miss. Granger, now that you’re awake, we’re going to do some routine checks to make sure everything’s okay. That means the family has to leave…” Harry quickly recounted what the nurse was saying to the team on the other end. “I’ll call you back when we’re allowed back in the room,” Harry promised. 

The Weasley family cleared out slowly. Molly Weasley was the last to leave. She cast one long glance back at the young woman she thought of as her own daughter and shuddered. She had caught sight of the burn marks on her chest. The elder woman swallowed and turned her head away.

Hermione knew the small burns were there; each time she breathed they would pull uncomfortably with the movement of her chest. As she followed the light of the small flashlight the doctor waved about her face, she wondered if Spencer would find her marks ugly…unattractive. Because she had been brought to a Muggle hospital, the chances of her healing them with magic were out. A doctor or nurse would notice and rouse suspicion. Logically, she knew they would heal on their own; she simply worried about scarring. The burns were small, but deep. The electric currents coming from the pads they used to revive her were so strong that they burned through her skin. For a moment, she stopped to think on how much she cared that Spencer minded them. ‘There’s nothing to suggest that we will have a relationship outside of working-’

~~MEMORIES~~

Hermione wrapped her arms around Spencer’s waist and linked her arms at her wrists. She was content to stay there forever buried in his arms and surrounded by the light smell of his wash and shampoo. 

“Come back safe, yeah?” He whispered in her ear. Hermione nodded.

~

She watched in muted fascination as he brought her wrist to his lips. Hermione face reddened as Spencer kissed deep indentions of her scar. Each letter received a gentle peck. Just for a moment, the Girl Genius forgot how to breathe and she couldn’t look away. The momentary lapse in memory was only worsened when he bravely raised his brown eyes to hers.

~

Hermione ignored her surrounding friends and focused only on Spencer. She suddenly found herself thinking of how she would feel if she never saw him again. A sense of urgency swept over her. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. She felt his shoulders tense underneath her hands and worried that she made a mistake. She backed away as his shoulders softened. Spencer chased her lips as she tried to pull away. His lips met hers gently but swiftly. Shock and pleasure swept through her. He stayed for a few seconds before pulling away. Hermione smiled through her blush as he dropped his arms from around her.

~

He watched the small movement of Hermione’s amber eyes as they looked from his lips to his eyes. The angle at which his head was tilted and the slight pout to his lips made her want to kiss him even more. Suddenly, the urge to fight the temptation seemed void. Before either knew what was happening, Hermione swooped down and kissed his lips.

~~END MEMORIES~~

‘Okay…so that previous thought was a complete lie…’ Hermione thought as the doctor stood up. Hermione blinked slightly. The male doctor smiled slightly at her before speaking:

“We’re going to keep you for a few days just to watch you,” he stated as he snapped his glove off. “Giving how quickly you woke up, you should be out of here in a few days. Not exactly walking, but at least on a crutch,” the doctor’s blue eyes bore into her own. “I must stress the importance of not putting any pressure or strain on the muscles in your leg…” 

“Of course,” Hermione agreed easily. As embarrassing as the thought was to the very independent woman, she would more than likely agree to anything within her reasoning to see Spencer Reid again.

Stripped Bare

“You know,” Derek stated as JJ clapped the phone shut, “I’m starting to like this Ron guy less and less.” The team couldn’t help but silently agree. “I mean, what kind of friend harasses another after going through what she has-”

“Someone that wants said friend back,” Spencer stated, sitting back against the white seat. He looked out the window with a small frown on his lips. He knew that Ronald Weasley was a married man; he also knew that the red head had a baby on the way.

“You don’t doubting her, do you?” Emily asked, leaning forward. Spencer looked away from the night sky. 

“No, I’m not,” Spencer answered strongly, “but even if I was, she’s not mine.” Morgan let out a small laugh at the young man’s statement. He placed his wrists on the table and crossed them at his hands. His fingers laced together as he leaned forward.

“Reid,” Morgan looked at Emily and JJ on either side of him, “come on, man. You can’t believe that.” Emily’s mouth was hanging open softly at the admission. JJ was simply staring at Spencer. Each agent replayed the kiss they had all witnessed Hermione and Spencer share. Spencer simply turned his eyes away from Morgan’s dark ones. “Hey, look at me,” Morgan demanded. Spencer obeyed. “That feisty little Brit is yours,” Morgan told him sitting back far enough so that the small of his back was touching the seat, “just as much as you are hers.” Spencer could feel the girls staring at him. 

“It’s just…now that she’s in England,” Spencer sighed and shook his head slightly, “what if,” he sighed, “What if they try and keep her there?” Morgan sat fully back and unlaced his hands. 

“Then they’ll have one angry BAU and an even angrier Brit on their hands,” Morgan stated easily. JJ’s eyebrows rose and fell as if in agreement. A small smile graced her face. Emily let out a small laugh at the mental image it proposed and sat back against the seat. Just as they were falling into silence, JJ’s phone rang. 

Stripped Bare

Hermione was once more surrounded by her second family and her friends the moment the doctor and nurses cleared the room. Hermione’s eyebrows rose as Harry walked into the hospital room with dialing his phone. 

“I believe there’s someone who wants to hear from you,” he stated as he hit the call button. It reminded Hermione that her own cell phone was not on her. She turned to Draco at her left side. 

“Where is my phone?” Her question was directed at him, but it was open to discussion with everyone in the room as JJ picked up. 

“This is JJ,” she greeted. “I’m guessing you’re back in the room?” 

“Yes, I am,” Harry clarified as Draco pulled out her phone and set it on the night table to his side. Hermione smiled gratefully and turned her attention back to Harry on the phone. He hit the speaker button and cast quick amplifiers spell on the cell so that every word said would be clear to the agents without Hermione having to raise her voice. 

“Nice to hear from you again,” Hermione stated with a small smile. She could hear movement from the other line and lots of it. Her ears detected the crunch of their leather seats as they leaned forward, the shuffle of paper as it was pushed aside by eager elbows, and the faint sound of bodies moving closer. If she tried hard enough, she could imagine herself with them. 

“Hermione!” She heard a sigh of relief come from Emily. The family was so caught up in the sight of Hermione smiling that they missed Ron’s shoulders as they tensed. Lavender, which had her hand laced tightly in his, did not. A small frown marred her pretty features. 

“Thank God you’re okay!” Garcia followed.

“Yeah, they’re saying I’ll be back on my feet in a few days,” Hermione said. Her hand rose to her aching throat. Harry frowned. Ginny extended the Jell-O pack and a spoon. She made the red substance do a small dance in front of her friend before teasingly saying:

“Oh, come on, you know you want it and all its little Jell-O-y goodness!” Hermione laughed then grimaced. She messaged her throat gently as Ginny pulled the plastic off the small container and stuck the plastic spoon into it. “Here,” she extended. Hermione smiled and took it from her hand. She took a large bite from it. Ginny laughed. “Geez, Godzilla mouth…” Hermione nearly choked on the Jell-O. Ginny laughed and patted her best friend’s back gently. 

“Not cool,” Hermione gasped through small snorts. “I do not have a Godzilla mouth.”

“Okay, okay, a tiny lake then?” Ginny gave a small sheepish smile as she shrugged her shoulders gently. 

“Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed. 

“Girls,” Harry called, “you do remember that the BAU agents are on the line right?” Even while he spoke those words, he wore the same small smile that each member of the Weasley family and friends wore. It was good to see the two women joking and laughing again. 

“As if I could ever forget about my little family in Quantico,” Hermione cooed. The team let those words sink in: “my little family.” Derek Morgan couldn’t help the smile that spread onto his face no more than Garcia could suppress her happy little squeak. Spencer smiled easily. He soaked up every word from her hoarse throat. Spencer was simply relieved to hear from her again. “I’m going to need someone to stay with me after I get released,” Hermione stated. Ron’s right fist followed his tightly drawn shoulders. “Now I don’t want you guys fighting over the position or anything…” 

“I’m sure we can exchange shifts like we planned to do,” Hotch comforted. He glanced up to meet each of his team’s eyes. While the eye color was different, each set of eyes spoke their agreement. While it was true Hermione was Spencer’s, he would have to share at least for a little while. Hermione smiled slightly at the ex-persecutor’s tone. 

“Who says you’re leaving?” Ron spoke up as Hermione opened her mouth to retort. The team on the other line heard the words as clearly as if they had been shouted at them. Morgan’s mouth fell open. Emily, JJ, and Garcia looked at one another. A small laugh escaped JJ’s lips. Gideon sat back. A whispered “uh-oh…” reached them. It sounded like the woman from before-Ginny. They couldn’t help but agree. Spencer tensed. One of his fears concerning Hermione was about to be confronted. As much as he tried to fight it, he knew that his emotional state depended on her answer. As he sat still in the airplane seat, he wondered if he could continue to discredit love when it was something had so powerfully linked his emotions to hers. 

“Excuse me?” They all heard Hermione’s incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry, I may not have heard you right, but it sounded like you were trying to tell me what to do?” The women on the phone line looked over at one another with large grins. Spencer felt his tense shoulder muscles loosen slightly. 

“You’re not going back to Quantico,” the statement sounded final. Hermione’s harsh laugh floated over the line. The sound caused a small chill to ripple throughout the hospital room and into the phone line. It didn’t take being a profiler to know that Ronald Weasley had just screwed up. 

“You’re wrong,” Hermione let out a small laugh, “but then again, you know that feeling.” A large rustling sound caused the team to look at one another over the table. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

“Hermione! Hermione! You can’t stand up!” They heard the same female voice plead. They all looked at one another. Spencer’s mouth fell open softly at the plea. He moved to plead with her as well when Hermione’s voice cut him off. 

“Then be my crutch, Ginny, because this son of a bitch just won himself a mint condition, straight off the printing presses, ass chewing.” Garcia raised her eyebrows and looked over at JJ and Emily. All three women were suppressing their laughter while Morgan did nothing to hide the grin that washed over his face. “You see, I’m going home whether you like it or not...” Hermione stepped toward Ron using Ginny’s elbow as her crutch. “And I don’t give a rat’s hairy ass whether you like it or not. You don’t own me. You’re lucky to even be considered a friend still. I may be on the road to happiness, but trust me, sweetie, that’s a long way from forgiveness. That has to be earned and so far you haven’t done shit. Now get out of this room.” A hushed silence fell over both the line and the room as Ron stood staring at Hermione. “Go on.” Hermione ushered. Lavender pulled lightly on her husband’s hand. Hermione knew it would be a moot point to say that Lavender could stay. She would leave when her husband did like a faithful, devoted wife. A small ironic smile drifted onto Hermione’s lips once they were out of the room. A faithful, devoted husband was one thing Ronald Weasley could never be. The hospital room door slammed behind Ron. Then applause erupted from the telephone line. The loudest one clapping was Garcia. Her bracelets clinked together with every smack of her hands. Morgan had a small fond smile stretching across his lips as he brought his hands together. Hermione laughed lightly as Ginny helped her back to bed; slowly, the rest of the room joined in the team’s applause. Hermione’s eyes widened. “You mean you guys aren’t mad about that?” 

“While I don’t agree with the language you let loose,” Molly said with a gentle smile, “I do believe my son deserved it. I do not think one person here would disagree with you.” 

“A real hot off the press ass chewing,” JJ quoted over the line. Hermione laughed. “I think you have Morgan shocked into silence.” 

“Just remind me never to cross you…” Morgan finally said. Spencer laughed. His hand came up to touch his throat. He massaged it gently with a small sway of his four fingers and thumb. Both of the geniuses’ voices sounded rough, but Spencer’s was far worse. Morgan glanced up at his best friend then back down at the phone. The entire team was worried that if Hermione heard his voice, she may come home sooner. 

“Better remember it,” Hermione joked. Her mind kept drifting back to Spencer. She knew he was there listening, so why wasn’t he talking? Scenario and scenario ran through her head and none of them ended well. “I’ll be home soon, okay?” Hermione promised the team. But the message was clear, she was speaking to Spencer. Spencer smiled lightly as he fell easily and willingly to her bait.

“Yeah,” Spencer said. “I’ll be waiting.” Hermione smiled softly at the promise. She knew he would be. After all, he knew where she hid her spare key. She had told him the night she kissed him for the very first time. Her tender smile stuck to her face. 

“Well, I’m going to get some rest,” Hermione said. A moment of shock washed through her as she thought of the words she so desperately wanted to add: “I love you.” It would be mainly directed to Spencer, even though she loved the team as well. It was the only rationalization she could come up with. Even then, it wasn’t a strong one. The feelings he made her feel, the heat that seemed instantly related to his touch…it was all a chemical imbalance within her brain, but it was something she and many others so desperately needed and believed in: love.

“Goodnight,” The team chorused as one. Hermione laughed through her suddenly frazzled emotions. She had admitted it to herself. Hermione Jean Granger wasn’t just falling in love with Spencer Reid, she was already there. 

“Goodnight,” with a swift sweep of Harry’s thumb the call ended. Slowly, the Weasley family began to clear out of the room. Hermione exchanged hugs and smiles with each one of them as they left the room. 

“I’m staying with you tonight, baby girl,” Draco said as he took a seat in the dark leather chair Molly had slept in the night before. Hermione shook her head with a soft roll of her eyes. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Hermione denied halfheartedly. Draco chuckled and placed his pale hands behind his blonde head. “Really, I’ll be fine.” He scooted down in the chair just enough for it to be comfortable and cracked one grey eye open. A strand of his hair fell in front of the open eye.

“Just shut up and go to sleep…” Hermione smiled softly at her longtime friend and gingerly snuggled underneath the covers. A small grimace graced her features as the soft covers rubbed against the stitches. Despite the discomfort, Hermione drifted off to sleep. While many miles away, Spencer Reid curled up on the couch of a plane with a blanket and pillow. His eyes were darting frantically behind his eyelids as he dreamed.


	20. Chapter 20

Stripped Bare

Chapter Twenty

The pain in her thigh awoke Hermione from her uneasy sleep. With a small frown, she reached across to the night stand and flipped open her phone. In white lights, the time starred up at her: 12 a.m. Hermione bit into her lip and thought. New York time subtracts six from London time. If her math was right then it was only six p.m. where Spencer was. Her thumb caressed the dial key lightly as she entertained the thought of calling him. Draco lay sleeping to the right side of her bed. She could hear his soft snores. An amused smile tilted her lips as he snorted softly and scooted farther down in the chair. She sighed and felt around for her wand. She found it in the drawer of the nightstand. She twirled it between her fingers as she thought of her current situation. She imagined that she looked rather odd with a red flip phone in one hand and a stick in the other. 

The wound Lucius had given her wouldn’t have been able to be healed by magic with the poison still circulating through inside her wound. She bit into her bottom lip and weighed her options. She could wake Draco and get him to scan the wound or she could do it herself. She knew that the latter option would involve the risk of reopening the wound. She also knew that her blonde best friend was sleeping peacefully.   
‘I do not want to do this the Muggle way…’ Hermione thought bitterly. She knew that the doctors were paying more attention to her now that she was awake. They had seen to the wound and knew its depth and length. She decided that a small modification of their memories would be okay.

She bit into her cheek as she struggled to roll over onto her side without the use of her right leg. She wrapped her hand around the cold metal of the bed railing and pulled with one hand. She slipped her other around her back and pushed. She allowed herself a sigh of gratitude as she realized she had succeeded and hadn’t woken anyone up. She propped herself up on her elbow and grabbed her wand in her free hand. She muttered the spell quickly and watched in muted fascination as it formed to her wound and turned a soft blue. Dark blue meant the poison was still in her system. Light blues like the one currently being seen meant her body had fought it off enough to be healed. She smiled widely and focused her mind on her nerves. The pain that had been numbed by morphine became apparent the harder she focused. The original damage to her nerves left them slightly numbed. She focused harder to get past the fog and fought off screaming. The damage was extensive. They wouldn’t allow her to leave without promising to do muscle exercises. She could do that, she decided. She kept her focus through the pain and raised her wand. Slowly, she shrank the depth of the wound. The stitches adjusted to her want. The pain eased slowly. Before the morphine could overtake her consciousness, Hermione altered the minds of the doctors and nurses. The morphine took ahold before she could think to do anything further. 

Draco awoke when the first rays of sunlight peaked over the horizon and danced along the window of the hospital room. Instantly, he was thankful he had. During the night, Hermione had taken out her wand. Draco scowled softly and swept her wand into his hand. He opened the drawer quietly and placed the dark stick softly inside. He tensed as Hermione’s hand fell from her side and plopped softly beside her. He stood still for a small amount of time and waited.

“Spencer…” She said softly. Draco had known for years that Hermione talked in her sleep. He was thankful that for once it wasn’t her heart wrenching scream that touched his eardrums. 

~~MEMORY~~

The scream that came from the room across the hall caused Draco to jerk awake. He tripped as he attempted to detangle himself from his bed sheets. Quickly, he pushed himself to his feet and darted down the hall. The stairs became slick underneath his feet. He slipped downward.

“Draco! Help me! Draco!” Hermione’s whimpers assaulted. Draco bypassed the slide with difficulty but still managed up it. With a sharp shove, he knocked the Head Girl’s door open. It banged against the stopper screwed into the wall. He didn’t stop to assess the damage. He was at her side in that instant.

“Hermione! Hermione!” He chanted as he touched her shoulder lightly. “Wake up!” He demanded. The moment his grip hardened on her shoulder, she jerked awake. He narrowly avoided the back of her hand. The look in her eyes ate at his soul. He knew why she had been calling out for him. She had been back at the Manor.

~~END MEMORY~~

Draco fought off an emotion break as he looked down at Hermione’s sleeping face. She looked almost peaceful and younger in her sleep. He raised his shaking fingertips to push a fallen lock of hair out of her face. 

‘No matter how many times she escapes it…she always returns to the Manor some reason or another…’ He thought angrily, sadly. It hurt that his former home would always be related to pain for his best friend.

Stripped Bare

Spencer grimaced as he realized he had just reread the same sentence again. He sighed and snapped the book closed. It was twelve a.m. New York time meant adding six to get London time. He sighed. That meant it would be only six a.m. where Hermione was staying. He had only been inside his apartment for one hour. 

It had been difficult to convince his team that he didn’t need anyone staying with him. One crutch was propped up against the back of the chair he occupied. He knew that no bones in his foot were broken. He had been checked for that. The only injuries he had were bruised bones, bruises, and puncture marks. Shame filled him once again. He needed Hermione, but calling her was not an option. She was probably asleep still.

~~MEMORY~~

“Spencer,” Hermione called softly before he could leave the kitchen. He looked back at her as he pushed a fallen hair out of his eyes. She nibbled her bottom lip nervously and turned her eyes from his. “Come here, please…” Nervously, he stepped forward. He placed his hand on her round tabletop as he neared her. She looked up at him. Her pink tongue darted out to wet non-chapped lips. She took the hand that wasn’t resting on the table into hers. She turned it so that his knuckles faced the floor. He ignored the rush of heat he felt as her fingertips caressed the skin in between them. She dug a chain necklace out of her pocket and placed it in his hand. The charm that dangled from the end was a key. A house key to be exact. He looked back up at her in shock. She blushed. “I know it’s odd. But it’s just in case your apartment gets lonely…or you feel like you can’t stay there a minute longer. I just…want you to know…that whether I’m here or not, my house is always open to you.” Spencer smiled softly. He bent quickly and placed a kiss on her lips as Garcia and Emily’s voices neared the kitchen. Hermione smiled through her daze as he slipped the long chain over his head. He tucked the chain underneath his button up shirt as Emily and Garcia entered the kitchen. The metal key, warmed from being in her pocket, fell just on his sternum.

~~END MEMORY~~

Spencer absentmindedly touched the key on his chest. It was a wonder that it had stayed on the entire two days Hankel had tortured him. He shook the images from his mind and grabbed the crutch from behind his chair. He pushed himself upward and leaned against it. His foot still throbbed painfully as he hobbled toward his bedroom door. He was so tempted to go to her house tonight, but knew that, no matter how badly he wanted her to be, she wouldn’t be there. 

He stopped as a heavy shiver shook his frame. He realized the signs. He was addicted to dilaudid. The two tiny vials still lay in his case, untouched. He was determined to keep it that way. He refused to let his team down. He refused to let Hermione see him this way. 

Stripped Bare

Doctor Andrews furrowed his blonde brow and rubbed his temple as he attempted to figure out why it felt wrong to let Hermione Granger leave the hospital tonight. She was healing quickly. She didn’t seem to have any trauma. Yet, something was nagging at him. He assumed it was the cut on her thigh. He pulled the chart from its holder outside her door and read over it. 

Andrews with a heavy heart and troubled mind opened the hospital door. Hermione Granger and her blonde friend looked up. He smiled reassuringly. 

“You will be allowed to leave today. Only if you see a physical therapist for your leg and continue regular doctor visits,” Andrews stated. He still felt very uneasy about letting her leave, but knew that he would have to prove that she wasn’t ready before a board of directors if he attempted to prolong her stay. He had no working evidence. As much as his gut was telling him no, he had to release her. 

The answering smile he got nearly cleared all of those worries out of his head. The pretty brunette had a way with people, he realized. Every member of the hospital’s staff was underneath her thumb. Anything she wanted, they would jump to do. Andrews shook his head as he closed the door behind him. She’d only been here for 48 hours. She had spent 24 of those hours in a coma. Those brown eyes, he decided, were a powerful weapon. 

Stripped Bare

“I think you dazzled him,” Draco joked as he helped Hermione swing her feet over the hospital bed. Hermione grinned over at him. Draco leaned against the wall as a pretty nurse brought Hermione’s crutches in. Draco stayed silent as Hermione struggled onto them. The nurse quickly adjusted them properly. Hermione gave the woman a grateful smile. The blonde smiled back. 

“Take care of yourself, ma’am,” she wished. Hermione nodded.

“You too,” it was clear to Draco that Hermione was suppressing her excitement. Draco smiled and shook his head. He scooped up the bag that Ginny had brought Hermione and followed her toward the front desk. 

Stripped Bare

Spencer nearly fell from his bed as a ring rippled through the night air. He struggled to work his hand free of his entangled sheets and grabbed the phone from the night stand. He rolled over onto one side, mindful of his injured foot, and looked down at the caller ID. A small smile drifted to his lips as Hermione’s name stared up at him.

“Hey,” he answered sleepily. 

“I’m sorry for waking you,” she apologized, “but I wanted to be the first to tell you-I was released today. Draco’s going to escort me home.” Spencer propped himself up on one elbow. His mouth fell open in a small ‘o’ before a wide smile drifted over his cheeks. 

“Are you taking a plane home?” He asked. 

“No, I’ll wait a few days before heading out. That way my second family in England gets to spend time with me before I return. Then I’ll come straight home to you…and the team,” Hermione hastened to add. Spencer detected a slight snicker. Spencer’s heart still raced slightly. He was well studied in human behavior, Hermione knew this. He knew that particular slip was an unconscious thought. He smiled.

“Be sure you do that,” he said. He was aware that his tone was slightly smug. Minutes later, their conversation came to a close. She had arrived at the Weasley home. Spencer snapped his phone shut with a slight smile. He noticed that once the phone call was coming to a close, Spencer wanted to say something. He couldn’t identify what it was nor why it felt so important that he say it. 

He glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was one a.m. now. He needed to rest although he wasn’t expected back to work for two days (unless a case came up). He set his phone back on the night stand and settled back down underneath the dark blue covers. Before he drifted off, Hermione’s words came back to him: ~“Come…home to you.”~

‘Why does that statement give me so much hope? Is because she thinks of Virginia as home or because she’s coming home?’ He wondered. For half of an hour, his active mind analyzed every word and every hitch and fall in her breathing the entire time they were talking. It was his profiling skills at large. An annoyed huff came from him as he realized how much time he had killed. He had gotten anywhere. Spencer rolled away from the digital alarm clock and attempted to silence his curious mind.


	21. Chapter 21

Stripped Bare

Chapter Twenty-One

The Weasleys’ home was in a state of chaos. Furniture was floating high above ginger heads as they attempted to clear Hermione’s path. They didn’t want her bumping into anything and falling. Inside the kitchen, Ginny and Molly worked on lunch. Lavender and Tonks set out plates. Sirius waited in the archway, watching the progress. His strong arms were crossed over his chest. Remus was waiting outside for Hermione and Draco. 

Sirius furrowed his brows as he watched his little cousin touch her stomach again. He tilted his head and studied his cousin closer. She looked more haggard than the others. Hermione’s injuries were hitting home for the pink haired woman. The only thing that confused Sirius was why it was affecting her so much. His thoughts were interrupted by the door behind him opening. 

“Angel!” He greeted as he spun around to face them. Hermione smiled fondly at the nickname from her crutches. Draco simply stepped around the older man while Remus hovered behind her. Sirius had adopted the nickname for her after the Ministry incident. 

“Hey, Sirius,” she greeted as she pushed herself forward with the crutches. Sirius raised his eyebrows as he recognized the shirt she wore. It was same one missing from his closet. She wore a pair of dark denim jeans to match the dark purple shirt. “You’ll get it back,” she reassured. Behind him, Harry shook his head.

“Don’t let her lie to you, Sirius,” he said, “she said that about my fifth year jersey and I haven’t seen it since.”

“I’m more curious as to why she had your fifth year jersey…” Fred teased as he overheard the conversation. It was a joke to Fred and George, but it still caused Hermione’s back to stiffen. The close friendship Harry and Hermione had was one of the major stressors when she had been with Ron. Whenever she wore one of the Order members’ shirts or even Harry’s, Ron would fall into a violent rage that left holes in the walls. Trying to maintain some type of normalcy, Hermione rolled her eyes.

“He ripped a hole in the shoulder of it when he was playing mock games with you two. I offered to sow it for him,” she reminded the boys. Behind her, Remus frowned. He could see the muscles in her back drawn as if she were expecting something horrible. Even as she spoke with a playful tone, they didn’t loosen. Remus wondered at the reason for her tension as he followed Hermione into the kitchen. 

His mind floated back to two years ago, before Hermione found Ron cheating on her.

~~MEMORY~~

They had been gathered at the table for a Weasley dinner when someone jokingly mentioned that Hermione had shirt-nabbed again. This time the shirt belonged to Charlie. Remus furrowed his brow as he recalled the darkness that had drifted over Ron’s face and the tension that had pulled Hermione’s smile off her lips. 

Remus and Sirius glanced at one another at the sour look on Ron’s face. It disappeared quickly but it seemed as though the storm still brewed in his dark blue eyes. Hermione was tense and kept picking at the bottom of the two year old shirt. A red dragon covered the middle of it-an angry splash of color against a black background. The outgoing woman suddenly seemed very shy. Before those words had been spoken, she had been leaning slightly toward Ron. Now, she leaned slightly away. 

~~END MEMORY~~

Remus and Sirius glanced at one another as they met in the arch. Both men conveyed silently their worry: Had Ron been abusive toward her? They attempted to think back to the other dinners Hermione had been at. There were no bruises on her that they could see. Sirius felt anger swell up in him. Remus laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“We don’t know for sure…” He whispered. The low tone wasn’t audible to anyone in the house. Only a dog’s ear would have been capable of catching it. Sirius nodded stiffly. 

“Boys?” Molly Weasley called as she set down a steaming bowl of rolls, “lunch’s ready…” She had noticed the silent exchange. She may not agree with many of Sirius’ views, but she did care for the both of them. She hoped that whatever it was they were speaking of, they would go about their business safely. 

Stripped Bare

Spencer groaned at the knock coming from his apartment door. He rolled out of bed and moved to stand. A sharp hiss escaped his lips as his injured foot gave loud protest. He sank back down onto the bed and fought off the familiar sting. He grabbed his crutch and stood. Quietly, he cursed the body that dared knock on his door at nine a.m. The knocking became more persistent. He cautiously looked through the peep hole. Derek Morgan stood in the hallway. He leaned fully against his crutch as he unbolted both locks and opened the door. Derek smiled sheepishly at him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked. Spencer suppressed rolling his eyes.

“Not very peachy,” he snapped. Derek held up his hands as Spencer hobbled to the side. Derek pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as Gideon and Hotch followed him inside. “What’s all this?” he asked. 

The vials of dilaudid were still hidden in a drawer. He didn’t know what possessed him to take them. Many times since returning, he had debated on destroying them, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. The addict in him received that small victory. Now as he stared at the male members of his team, he knew why they were here. They knew he had taken the vials and they were making sure he didn’t get the opportunity to cave to the desires that made him itch. He was overcome with both annoyance and gratefulness. 

“Guys, I’m fine, really,” he reassured as he hobbled toward the empty chair by his television. He attempted to keep his tone soft and pleasant. He knew by their expressions that they could tell it was forced. For a moment, he cursed his career choice. He was surrounded by the best minds in the FBI. He couldn’t lie to them. 

“Then you won’t mind us staying a while,” Gideon said as he propped his right leg over his left. Spencer felt slightly unnerved by the close attention his team was paying him. They seemed to be analyzing his every move. 

“We’re just worried about you, man,” Derek said. Spencer fought off his annoyed retort and chose silence. He knew that they had been scared when Hankel had him. He knew that they were still worried he would disappear. He could read it in the way they seemed to unconsciously lean in his direction. “You got any good movies around here?” Spencer opened his mouth, “other than Star Trek or Star Wars?” Spencer quickly closed it again. The others chuckled slightly. 

“There are a few horrors…” he stated, “And maybe one or two standup comedians.” Spencer watched as the leader of his team and the members shared a look. Derek stood from the couch with a slight jump. 

“Comedy it is then.” Spencer fought off a sigh when it became clear that they were staying. Hotch looked over at Gideon. 

“Anybody want a pizza?” He asked. “I’m paying,” he offered. Derek turned toward him from where he knelt in front of the TV. The DVD tray closed with a small click at the same time a smile spread across Derek’s face. 

“In that case, yes,” Derek said. Despite his annoyance, Spencer couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

Stripped Bare

After breakfast, Tonks, Ginny, Lavender, and Hermione were gathered in the largest room in the house: the living room. They all sat on pillows in the floor. They were arranged in a small circle. Hermione’s leg was propped up on another pillow in front of her. Popcorn sat in the middle of their little circle. Molly sat in the new armchair, knitting a sweater for her only niece-Victoria. They had dedicated this day to catching up with their favorite female genius.

The men were still around somewhere. Sirius, Remus, Ron, and Harry had disappeared into the backyard. Arthur had retired to his shed. Fred and George had left to check on their joke shop with promises to return. Draco had tagged along. Each man said that they would join them later. The women knew this to be true. After all, it would only be a few days before Hermione would leave them again. 

“So…” Tonks drawled, “Am I going to get details finally?” Ginny and Lavender furrowed their brows in confusion as Hermione blushed slightly. 

“I suppose so!” Hermione sighed unconvincingly. 

“As if you don’t want to talk about him!” Tonks teased, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. Hermione’s laughter turned into a surprised snort as projectile smacked her in the forehead. “Ten points!” Tonks exclaimed playfully.

“Oh ha-ha.” Hermione drawled. Tonks just grinned.

“Okay, we’re seriously confused. What are you two talking about?” Ginny asked.

“Granger’s got a boy toy in the states,” Tonks teased. Ginny and Lavender’s mouth fell open in shock. The clicks from Molly’s knitting stopped as she processed the statement. The Weasley mother glanced up from her inspection and stared hard at Hermione’s quickly flustered face. Lavender reclined backward on her hands. From the phone call she had heard the night before the mission, it did not sound as though the man was just a boy toy. It was something more. If Lavender ever doubted Hermione’s intentions, the exclamation that would come next would correct it all.

“He is not a boy toy!” Hermione exclaimed with passion. Tonks held up her hands. It would have been an effective sign of surrender if it weren’t for the piece of popcorn held between her forefinger and thumb. Ginny raised her eyebrows while Lavender sat back up. All three pregnant women leaned forward. 

“So, what is he?” Ginny asked. 

“Is he your boyfriend?” Lavender questioned after Ginny. Hermione looked away from both girls. She fixed her eyes on the floor. 

“We haven’t figured that out yet,” Hermione admitted. “I mean…we’re close to it. I mean…I feel comfortable sharing personal things with him and dancing with him…” 

“Does he have to obey that two inches rule?” Ginny asked. Lavender raised her eyebrows in confusion while Tonks just gave a loud laugh. Molly Weasley even smiled through her concentration. It was knowledge that Hermione had that rule for every guy that danced with her. She had created it after Cormac McLaggen got a little more than grabby at Slughorn’s party. Hermione’s face turned red.

“No,” she mumbled. Ginny and Tonks wagged their eyebrows at her. Lavender simply looked at the scene in confusion. Molly didn’t even look up from her knitting. She had suspected that Hermione had been closer to two inches to an unknown man when she had said something about not having a problem with the “bump and grind.” Molly suppressed a small shudder. 

“See, now I’m interested,” Ginny teased as she leaned forward. Her crossed legs provided the right prop for her elbows. “Just how close did he get, Hermione?” Hermione’s face turned bright red. Molly coughed from her position at the chair as Hermione got lost in the memory.

~~MEMORY~~

His arm had felt amazing around her waist. His hands were warm on her stomach as she swiveled her hips back into his. She could feel him, all of him, pressing against her with every deliberate swipe. Every now and then his thumbs would run over the skin above her navel. 

~~END MEMORY~~

“I think we’ve lost her,” Tonks stage-whispered to Ginny. Lavender giggled behind her hand. Hermione blinked. “Welcome back!” Tonks exclaimed as the glassy appearance in her eyes vanished. 

“I’m judging by that look he got less than a half an inch close,” Ginny teased as she popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “He possibly even got a little touchy touch going on.” Hermione answered her by launching a handful of popcorn at her. Ginny squealed as they smacked her hair and face. 

Lavender couldn’t help but be thankful for the girls. They had invited her to join this little circle when she had been intent on leaving. To her surprise, it had been Hermione that had extended the invite. She had believed that the Weasleys would hate her for breaking apart Ron and Hermione’s relationship; instead, most of them had been welcoming and warm. 

~~MEMORY~~

Lavender worried her bottom lip as she watched Ron pull his shirt over his head. They had spent the entire Saturday in bed; now, it was time to go to the Weasleys for dinner. Ron looked back at her from the edge of the bed. She hadn’t moved. 

“Lav?” He asked as he laid a hand on the white sheet. He twisted back to look at her. “What’s wrong?” 

“Do you think they’ll hate me?” She asked. Ron stared at her for a moment. His blue eyes were speculative. With Ron, she never knew what to expect. He could be loving and open one minute then harsh the next. She hoped that just once he would lie to her. 

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” he answered. Lavender got her wish: he lied. She was sure of it.

~~END MEMORY~~

The only Weasley that seemed to hate her was Ginny. Lavender snuck a look over at her sister-in-law. She was laughing with Hermione and Tonks still. For a moment, she wondered if the beautiful red head still held that hatred of her. She feared to know the answer. 

Stripped Bare

 

Spencer raised his eyebrows as Derek nearly choked on the bite of pizza he had taken just as Gabriel Iglesias cracked a joke about his being hit on at an alternative night club by men. Hotch patted him on the back while Gideon shook his head and sipped his beer. 

“Man, I called my girlfriend and said you better not mess up I have options!” Spencer cracked a small laugh at that. Derek snorted and bit into his pizza again. This time he was able to eat it without choking. Spencer shook his head and sipped his Coca Cola.

They didn’t converse much and for that, Spencer was slightly thankful. They didn’t ask if he was alright; they didn’t press on his mental health. He knew that all of that would come when he came back to work. Right now, they were simply good friends watching a comedian and eating pizza. 

Stripped Bare

Draco and the other men had joined the women now. They occupied varies places. Fred and George had drawn up a pillow beside Hermione. Ron, Draco, Harry, and Arthur occupied the couch and armchairs. The conversation turned from the man in Hermione’s life to how she liked Virginia. 

The air around Ron and Hermione crackled with tension and angry feeling. The anger was not one sided. Hermione was still enraged that Ron would attempt to ban her from returning to the states. She hoped that he wouldn’t bring it up again. But Ron, being Ron, didn’t know when to give up. 

They were halfway through the conversation when he spoke up, interrupting Ginny’s question on how Hermione’s house looked. 

“I don’t know why you’re wondering, she’s going to sell it anyway,” Ron stated confidently. Hermione’s eye twitched. Molly set aside her knitted, prepared to give Ron an earful. Hermione continued as if she hadn’t even heard him.

“Oh, Ginny, you’re going to love it. It’s modest, I suppose. The biggest room in it is the bathroom.” The Weasleys were momentarily surprised. Usually, Hermione would rise to the argument and bury Ron. Molly felt a slight stab of worry when she realized that Hermione not only didn’t acknowledge her son’s statement but she also didn’t acknowledge him when he first entered the home. She was acting as if Ron hadn’t come in at all. Molly Weasley knew it was one of the things Ron hated most: to be ignored. “I think I did a good job on it.” 

“Wait, you did a good job?” Ginny questioned. Hermione smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of her neck. She knew these next words would probably anger the Weasleys. 

“Yeah, I painted it and decorated it myself before I moved,” Hermione admitted. “I bought it online…” The household sat in silence. 

“You never were one to go into anything unprepared…” Harry admitted quietly. Ron’s fingertips dug into the upholstery of the couch. She had been planning the move; it wasn’t spontaneous at all. She had been planning the move and hadn’t told them. 

“How did you get all of your things moved from your apartment?” Ginny questioned next. Ron was amazed at his family. Not one of them seemed amazed by Hermione’s behavior. It was like they had all expected it. He looked around the room. Was he the only one that had been caught by surprise? 

“Remember the spell I used to deepen that beaded purse?” Harry nodded. “I applied that to a backpack and shrank the furniture. I did the same with my books, my TV, my rugs, and my pictures. Basically, everything that I owned fit in that one backpack.” 

“You know we would have helped you had you told us…” Draco said. “It wouldn’t have been any trouble.” 

“I know, but I felt like it was something I had to do on my own,” Hermione answered quietly. She became preoccupied with the red pillow she sat on. She didn’t explain any further. Ron felt angered at her silence. 

“And just what was that?” He demanded. Draco suppressed the jerk of his arm. He wanted so badly to hit the disrespectful git sitting next to him. Draco stared at Hermione’s frame. She wasn’t tense. She gave no signs of even acknowledging the tone Ron was using. Draco smirked. It was a new tactic. Ron got his satisfaction out of knowing that Hermione had risen to his bait. When she refused to give him that, he grew even more aggravated. Draco looked back over at the redhead. His ears were blood red in anger; his nails were ripping the red fabric of the couch cushion. If they lived life in a cartoon, steam would be coming out of his ears.

“There’s one thing I don’t get,” Tonks said, “you wouldn’t let me lead the mission.” A night that started out light and jovial was now turning into one of serious content. Tonks hoped that she could steer it back to that atmosphere after Hermione answered her question. “It was like you knew something bad was going to happen…” Hermione looked up at her slowly blackening haired friend. 

“There had been reports of poisons being used in the last raid we did together…” Hermione admitted. “I gathered up what we had found in the warehouse they were using and checked the names.” Hermione met Tonks’ eyes. “I knew what the drugs could do when we were checking the mission.” Shock read on all faces. The anger that had filled Ron’s expression quickly melted into one of horror. 

“You knew it could…kill you?” Tonks whispered.

“Why didn’t you say anything before we went on the mission?” Harry demanded. Horror and rage ran hand and hand inside him as he realized that he could have prevented her attack. Hermione met his angry stare head on. 

“You needed every hand you could get on this mission-” Harry stood up quickly. Hermione followed his action with a slight move of her head. 

“We had enough explosions that-” Harry started. Remus stepped away from the wall and put himself between the quarrelling friends. 

“You know that Hermione suggested those the moment we arrived at the scene, Harry,” Remus rebuffed gently. “Without her, we wouldn’t have gotten out as easy and there would have been many more causalities.” Hermione and Tonks stayed silent as her ex-professor’s brown eyes flicked toward his wife. They both knew he meant his baby could have died before it even had a chance to live. The others didn’t need to know that.

“Why couldn’t Tonks lead like we planned?” Ron asked, his tone was cruel and hard as he cut his blue eyes over at the witch sitting next to Hermione. Tonks' hair began to turn bright red at the tone. 

“Because I’m pregnant…” Tonks stated bluntly. She looked toward Remus for a brief second. He smiled in response. All argument in the room paused as the warning the doctor had given repeated through their minds: “This drug can cause a miscarriage.” The women congratulated the expecting mother quietly. Harry and Ron congratulated Remus stiffly while the others did so enthusiastically.

Hermione stared at her two best friends. When they were in school, Harry and Ron would never have questioned her decision. She was their caretaker. Since the incident with Ron and Lavender, it seemed that the roles had been reversed. Harry felt the need to tend to her, to watch over her. Hermione looked away from her black headed friend and turned to her female red head. Ginny’s hands were lying lightly over her flat stomach. In nine months, a baby would be coming.

Everyone in the room thought that her leaving had something to do with what happened between Ron and her, but as Hermione looked at her two best friends. She knew the reason. Harry and Ginny couldn’t start a life together and be fully happy while watching over her. 

Hermione looked away from her friends quickly and grabbed the crutches from beside her seat. She jumped as a pair of warm hands touched her shoulders. She looked up to see Sirius Black’s serious face looking down at her. He helped her to her feet. As the room turned to look at her, Hermione faked a yawn. 

“I’m going to go lay down, guys,” she dismissed herself. She could feel every eye on her as she hobbled from the room. She could feel Sirius watching her as she hobbled up the steps. 

Hermione suppressed the urge to slam her door shut. She turned the lock and walked on into her bedroom. The moment she sat down on the bed, she threw her crutches down and glared at them. With an aggravated huff, she flopped back onto her bed. 

“I hate this…” She mumbled into her pillow. Normally, she would just heal it the minute she would out of the hospital, but because Harry had called JJ and informed them of her injury she wouldn’t be able too. She was a good actress, but not that good of one.


	22. Chapter 22

“Bad news, guys,” Sting announced as he came into the dark room. Presley Owens raised his eyebrows from his seat in the back of the room. Even though Sting said “bad news”, he sounded entirely too happy. All eyes fell to the newspaper in his hand. “Scar-head’s struck again.” He drawled as he threw it down onto the table. Chairs scrapped across the floor as men sat forward. “Lucius was captured.”

‘Ah,’ Presley thought as he watched the room. The men inside all shared various looks of feeling. Smug and anticipating was the main one. Presley suppressed shaking his head. They were a bunch of dogs fighting to mark their territory first. He was just content to watch. 

“So we just break him out right?” Sting turned his attention to the youngest member. A female with a dark black bob and a pug like nose: Pansy Parkinson. Sting sneered. 

“No, Parkinson, we can’t just break him out,” he mimicked her tone, “security at Azkaban is tighter than in your third year.” She scowled and sat back in the chair. Her glare had no effect on him. A small smirk touched his lips. ‘After all,’ he thought as he looked at the young woman, ‘she is no Bellatrix Lestrange.’ For all of Lucius’ stories, the young woman still had yet to prove herself.

“So what do we do?” A young man around Parkinson’s age spoke up. Presley, he believed his name to be. From what he knew of him, he stayed hidden throughout his Hogwarts years. Presley was perfect for their case. He was invisible without an aide. 

“We wait. Try to lay low. We don’t need any attention drawn to us.” He tapped the paper. “Lucius injured one of the section leaders of the Order.” Cruel laughter and the powerful sound of mugs being struck against the wood filled the room. Sting held up his hands. The banging and laughs stopped. “They’re going to be focused on her for a while. It should buy us enough time.” 

Pansy reclined back in her chair as she listened to Sting speak. Her mind and heart were racing. Lucius Malfoy had been captured. The most skilled of all the Deatheaters had been captured. What chance did they have? 

~~MEMORY~~

“Pansy,” Lucius called from the darkened alley. Pansy furrowed her black brows. She knew that Lucius had been forced into hiding; his wife had left him after Draco had been lured by that Mudblood whore. Resentment pulsed through her veins at every waking minute. Draco was to be hers. They were to be married. That whore had ruined it all! Lucius was waving her over now. Pansy’s love for her former father-in-law pushed her forward. She stopped in front of him. 

“Mr. Malfoy, how nice to see you,” she said. Unlike with most people, her pleasantry toward him was not faked. She was not afraid of   
being mugged although he looked as though he hadn’t had a nice meal in ages. 

“I request your aide with something,” Lucius demanded. It wasn’t a question; it was a demand. Pansy recognized it as such. When she visited during the summers, he often used that tone with Draco. Pansy smothered her bitter feeling as she recalled that the command was usually something to do with her. He wouldn’t sit next to her without being forced. He wouldn’t hold her hand without the threat of a beating. She practically had to force herself on him to get a kiss from him. 

“Well, shall we get this off the streets?” She asked. “You look like you could eat and it is very cold out here.” Pansy was willing to bet that the house that had once been the pride of the Pureblood had no heating now. The goodies of the Wizarding World had seen to it that its majestic power had been stripped. It was nothing more than a fallen in home without the magic to sustain it. 

“Very well,” Lucius consented. Pansy attempted not to smirk at the way he spoke. He took her arm and with a sharp pop they were gone from the nearly deserted streets. It had been the beginning of Lucius’ rule over her.

~~END MEMORY~~

Pansy listened closely. She wondered if they would treat her the same with Lucius gone. He had made them swear an oath that she was to be protected, to be treated fairly, and not to be touched. Would she be attacked, thrown out now that Lucius was gone? As she eyed the speculative way Sting looked at her, she doubted it. She had heard the whispers. The Deatheaters wanted the next Bellatrix Lestrange and they wanted it to be her. Lucius praises of her, no matter how false, had convinced them all that she could be. 

Presley had sunk back into the background of the meeting. Sting hadn’t looked at him again. With Lucius out of the picture, it was becoming clear that it was Sting’s operation now. He paid close attention to the others as well as to Sting. He soaked in everything. After all, he would have to retell it later. 

“That’s all for tonight. Go home,” Sting dismissed. Presley rose from the chair and apparated out like many of the others. Presley reappeared outside of the Burrow. He walked toward their door and knocked. Molly Weasley greeted him with a bright smile. 

“Presley!” The black haired man smiled softly at her greeting and allowed himself to be ushered inside by the jolly woman. She led him into the living room where the others greeted him with variations of hey. 

“Where’s Granger?” He asked, fearing the worst. Sting had said that one of their own had been injured. He just didn’t say how badly. 

“Upstairs. She’ll probably be on her way down in a minute.” Before the sentence was fully out of Fred’s mouth, the rhythmic clomp of crutches against wooden stairs reached Presley’s ears. He furrowed his brows. It wasn’t like him to question Hermione Granger’s decisions; he wasn’t about to start now. He only walked toward the stairs and helped her with the last step. She smiled gratefully at him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He smothered his amused smile when Ron burned.

“Hey, beautiful,” he flirted jokingly. Hermione rolled her eyes, but let him help her to the couch. In some ways, Presley reminded her of Sirius. They had the same black, curly hair and same grey eyes, but they weren’t directly related. Presley, like many of the Death Eaters, is a Pureblood. He was also their double agent. 

“How are you doing?” Hermione questioned as the necessary charms and jinxes were cast on the room. Many of those jinxes and charms she had created herself; the others had been thought up by Severus Snape-the first double agent. Presley smiled and sank down on the pillow she had vacated before. 

“They don’t suspect anything. I doubt that they will. It wasn’t public knowledge that the Deatheaters ever had been betrayed.” Presley reclined back on his palms. His attention was shifted to Draco now. “Pansy Parkinson is one of the newest members. Lucius was building her up to be the next Bellatrix.” Everyone tensed while Draco snorted.

“She doesn’t have it in her,” he drawled. Presley easily agreed.

“But they don’t know that,” he added. “Your father has spun quite the tales. Some pieces of it are believable however. She’s still caught up on you, Dray.” A small smile drifted onto Draco’s face at the nickname. They had been friends since their first year. It was Presley that literally knocked some sense into his eleven year old head with a heavy Potions book. It was Presley that convinced him he had a choice. “She’s blaming Granger for all of it.” 

Hermione tensed. Pansy may not be very smart, but she was very vindictive. If word got out that Spencer existed, Pansy would go after him. A small shudder ran down her spine as the scenarios ran through her head. Pansy wouldn’t kill him. She would make sure Hermione found him. She couldn’t let that happen. 

“So far, they still believe you live in London,” Presley added for her benefit. “I’m going to do my best to keep it that way. They aren’t as smart as the previous Deatheaters. They’re all young, new recruits. Paul Sting is acting as leader now that Lucius is out of the way. It’s causing a lot of quiet uproar. We may get lucky. They may kill one another.” 

“Why do you think that?” Ginny asked from beside him. Presley grinned.

“Sting likes me. He wants to use me to take you out. He trusts my observations. If I tell him that some of the others are growing restless with his leadership and plan to overthrow him, it will cause a riot.” Draco couldn’t help but feel prideful of his house at this moment. Presley was living up to the house’s real reputation. Slytherins were skilled in turning the tides of the game. They were eloquent with words and perfect with manipulation of situations. Add those traits to Presley’s ability to blend into any background and act the part assigned, Presley became a great asset. 

“And if he mentions your name?” Hermione asked. Presley shook his head.

“He won’t. Sting wants all that glory for himself. I grantee you, he won’t see it coming,” Presley said as he pushed a lock of dark hair out of his view. Hermione smiled along with Draco. Presley often wondered why Granger wasn’t put in Syltherin. 

Draco had told him fifth year of the skilled way she had manipulated Dolores Umbridge, a Ministry official, into leaving her post and following her into the dangerous Forbidden Forest. It was the first seed of respect Hermione Granger had planted within the Syltherin house. That seed only grew through the years as she showed more and more of their traits. Those that didn’t respect her, like Pansy, were afraid of her. She had proven time and time again that to protect her boys, she would go the lengths of breaking school rules and sometimes even the law.   
The more he thought about it, the better it was that Hermione Granger was placed in Gryffindor. Syltherin trained its students. Hermione didn’t need training; she had talent. 

“There is one more notable figure in the group though,” Presley said, “a werewolf.” He saw Remus tense out of the corner of his eye. “Greyback created and pulled him over to Voldemort’s side before the final battle at Hogwarts.” Presley sighed, “he’s being kept chained in the basement of Pansy Parkinson’s house. That’s also where-”

“The newest group of followers is meeting,” Hermione finished for him. “I know. Pansy wasn’t exactly careful in hiding them.” Presley nearly snorted. Pansy was careful. Hermione Granger was just better. “That black covering they have leaves a residue that can be tracked.” Remus, Sirius, and Tonks looked at one another. They hadn’t known that. Remus pointed it out with slight awe in his tone. “During my fifth year, I talked to Professor Snape. He let me do some experiments on his trail.” Mouths fell open around the room. 

“Why did he let you-” Draco started.

“You had dirt on him, didn’t you?” Harry asked, recalling the way Hermione manipulated Rita Skeeter. Hermione smirked but said nothing. A cold shiver rippled down Presley’s and Draco’s spine. Her smirk only fortified his belief that it was a VERY good thing Hermione was put in Gryffindor.

“Granger,” Draco said, “you would have made a smashing Syltherin, you know that?” Hermione smirked.

“Funny, Professor Snape said that too,” she drawled, “anyway. I found out that it could be tracked because it left black soot on the jar. I created a simple spell that would cling to it. It would admit a tiny glow.” 

“What’s the spell?” Tonks asked.

“You already know it,” Hermione said. “Lumos.” Confusion was scrolled on the room. Hermione smiled softly. “A spell can be altered by a person’s mindset.” 

“You’re brilliant, scary…but very brilliant…” Ron muttered. Hermione felt a small sting as she recalled when those words had made her heart skip; now it did nothing. Slowly, Hermione’s mind returned to Spencer. She couldn’t let him be caught. Her heart felt heavy as she realized there was only one person in this room she didn’t trust with the knowledge of his existence.

“Another thing about them is that they’re very reckless,” Presley stated, looking around the room. “They meet during broad daylight.” 

Presley looked over at the woman he greatly respected. She seemed to be lost in thought. Her fingers were absentmindedly tapping her lips. All but Presley missed the faint light that suddenly surrounded Ron. It had come from the tip of Hermione’s wand. Presley furrowed his brow in confusion. Hermione Granger had just placed a gentle tongue tying charm on Ronald Weasley. Gentle only meaning that Ron didn’t feel it and only a trained eye could see it. 

Presley looked over toward the two remaining Marauders. If Sirius Black or Remus Lupin saw it, they said nothing. He looked back toward Hermione. As she slipped her wand back into her pocket, he thought that he saw a tear beading in the corner of her eye. There were a few more things to touch on before the end of the meeting, but Presley planned to confront her once it was over. 

Stripped Bare

Spencer Reid glanced over at his clock: 4 p.m. Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, and Jason Gideon had been at his house since 9 a.m. They had had pizza for breakfast and popcorn for lunch. If his math was correct, which he was sure it was, then it was now 9 p.m. in London. 

Spencer looked back at the men he thought to be his family. He loved them, but if they didn’t leave soon he was going to blow a fuse.

As fate would have it, Derek was the first to stand up. He dusted bits of fallen popcorn off of himself.

“This has been fun, boys, but I have a hot date tonight,” he said. No one offered to drive him. None of the men were drunk. The knowledge that they could be called away on a case any moment was enough to push the idea from their minds. They all learned early on that you did not want to be on a plane with a hangover. Jason, Aaron, and Derek had learned from firsthand experience; Spencer learned through observation. 

Aaron stood next. An amused smile flashed across Spencer’s lips at his reason: Haley had demanded he come home through a text message. Aaron glared at him. 

“Shut up, kid. Your day’s coming,” Aaron said, pointing his phone at his younger friend. Then the implications of what he had said sank into the remaining gentlemen. Spencer blushed and Jason laughed. Aaron just coughed to cover up his laugh. He turned to Jason. “You coming?” 

“Ah, sure,” Jason stated. A small part of him wanted to stay with Spencer, but another knew that the young man was ready to rip them a new one. He couldn’t shake the worry that something was going on even as he stood from the armchair. 

“Thank you for coming,” Spencer said as he pushed himself onto the crutch and walked with them toward the door. Aaron and Jason suppressed a small laugh. Even injured and annoyed, Spencer still stuck to his manners. Jason had no doubt that he would have shooed them out with a “please” at the end. 

Stripped Bare

Presley caught up to her in the kitchen. He cast a quick spell over the room so that their words would be distorted to sound as though they were simply catching up. Hermione leaned against the table. 

“Why did you do that?” He asked. Hermione looked away from him, past him into the living room where Ron sat talking to a tense Harry. 

“It’s horrible, I know,” Hermione sighed, “that out of everyone in that room, he’s the one I trust the least.” Presley listened. He didn’t speak. For that Hermione was grateful. “He wasn’t even in the room when I spoke of him!” Hermione exclaimed, “but I know Lavender will tell him…Lavender’s the gossip queen of Hogwarts…gossip…oh god!” Presley froze as a white glow engulfed Lavender too. Again, no one noticed it. That spell seemed to be done unconsciously. Presley looked back to her. “Just a precaution…” Hermione whispered. Presley understood. “It won’t hurt the baby or her.” 

“I know that, Granger,” Presley soothed; he placed a hand on her shoulder. He closed his eyes slightly and listened to her magical balance. Hermione knew what he was doing, but let him do it anyway. “For so much power in you, you’re equally balanced,” he soothed. Hermione didn’t doubt that she wasn’t. 

The magical balance was the line between Dark Magic and Light Magic. If there were a conflict or stressor in a wizard or witch’s life, the balance could be offset. Hermione knew that her friends were worried that hers had been. She had seen it in their eyes during the recent Order meeting; she had seen it before they left for the mission and during it. They were afraid because they all knew if Hermione were to become unbalanced, there would be no stopping her. They would never find her. 

“I wish I could check Ron...” Presley mumbled. Hermione noticed with a sharp stab of regret that she agreed with him. 

“I could probably make it happen…” Hermione admitted. Presley swiveled his head toward her. Only a handful of witches and wizards had the ability Presley did. One of those gifted men was Albus Dumbledore. Hermione, for all of her ability and power, could not do see another person’s magical balance by a simple touch. 

“No,” he hissed. “If Ron is unbalanced even in the slightest, it could prove dangerous. I won’t have you showing up at my door like that again!” Hermione flinched at the reminder. 

~~MEMORY~~

The cold rain poured down around her. She had gone to gather the rest of her stuff from Ron’s apartment. He had been drinking. He had hit her, screamed at her, and then he had hit her some more. It had only stopped when Hermione had knocked him back into the wall above his bed with a well-aimed Stupefy. Harry valued his friendship with Ron. She didn’t want to ruin that. No one close to him could know. Rationally, it left only one person: Presley Owens. 

They had met in her sixth year. He had been upset and hiding in the library from Draco’s goons. Hermione had sat with him despite the emblem on his robe. She needed somewhere to hide as well, but not from bullies, from Ron and Lavender’s sickening display. The first few days they had sat in silence; it wasn’t the tense kind, but a comfortable one. He would work on an assignment and she would read. What got their friendship started was one question from him: “Can you really read that fast?” Hermione didn’t know how it started their friendship, but it did. They talked about everything after that. 

He didn’t know Ron and he wasn’t friends with Harry. He only knew Draco. So when Hermione showed up on his doorstep on that rainy October night, she hadn’t been worried. He had let her inside with wide, angry eyes. 

“Ron,” he had growled. Hermione placed a hand on his arm to keep him from hunting Ron down. 

“It’s not worth it,” she said through a busted lip. “Besides, he’s unconscious right now anyway; there would be no satisfaction for you.” Presley grumbled something she didn’t catch and focused on healing her. Her eye had already begun to swell. When he finished her lip and eye, he looked up at her. 

“Did he hit anywhere else?” Hermione looked away and lifted up her shirt. Presley hissed at the bruises forming across her ribs and stomach. “That son of a bitch…” He growled as he healed her. “Why did you go back there?”

“I wanted the rest of my stuff,” she admitted. Presley looked up at her.

“I’ll go get it later,” he said. Hermione shook her head.

“No need,” she informed, “I got it while he was unconscious. He’s probably going to be very annoyed when he wakes up anyway.” 

“What’d you do?” Presley asked as she lowered her shirt. Hermione smiled coyly at him. 

“He’s going to find his trousers glued to him and no way to stop the fire that he’ll be experiencing in his crotch.” Presley shuddered as he felt what Ron would be feeling. “Oh, it’s not a real fire of course. I’m not that cruel.” 

“Woman, you are all kinds of my hero,” he said. Hermione laughed as he pulled her into a hug. 

~~END MEMORY~~

“I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if you showed up like that again,” he said. As if to make his point, he touched her cheek softly before lowering it back to her shoulder. “I’ll figure out a way to get a read on him, don’t worry.” 

As Presley turned to leave, Hermione reassured herself that they were all worried over nothing. ‘Ron’s magical balance is fine; he’s just an ass…’ Hermione reasoned with herself as she clomped toward the stairs. She waved goodbye to her friends that weren’t staying at the Burrow that night as she mounted the stairs.

Lavender couldn’t help but look over at her husband. His eyes would always linger a little too long on Hermione. She sighed as he watched her until she was out of sight. Only then did he turn to her. 

“Ready to go?” He asked. Lavender nodded and took his arm in hers. With a sharp pop they were gone and back home. Then, Ron’s lips were upon hers. She gave a small squeak of surprise, but consented to his hunger. Soon, she became caught up in it. But always, in the back of her mind, she could still hear the fifteen year old Ginny Weasley telling her: “Hermione will always be the one for him, don’t you see that?” Lavender knew that. But as he moved inside her bringing small bursts of stars into her vision, for a few minutes at least he was hers. It was her name on his lips. 

‘Maybe, just maybe,’ Lavender thought, ‘everything will go back to normal when Hermione leaves tomorrow…’ Hermione’s departure was one thing she could keep to herself. Ron would try to talk her into staying. He would try to force her to stay. A small shiver rippled through her, but it wasn’t because of Ron’s hands or hips; it was because of fear for Hermione. Ron was only so obsessed with her.

Lavender had learned early on not to say Hermione’s name around him. He would never hit her, but she could see the slight jerk of his arm. Each time she thought of leaving him, a horrible burn would travel from her ring finger to the middle of her chest. Early on, she understood. She was trapped; the only one that could help her was the one she was most ashamed of asking: Hermione Granger. 

Knowing her pride would not allow it, Lavender simply told herself things would get better when Hermione returned to Virginia. Ron would go back to being hers and they would be happy.


	23. 23

Stripped Bare

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hermione took one last look around the room she had sparsely stayed in. She hadn’t left with a go bag like Spencer’s team. She hadn’t needed too. Many of her clothes were still at the Burrow. This was the same for all of the Weasley children. For once, she was thankful for Molly’s profound ability to hoard her children’s things. She currently wore one of Arthur’s shirts and a pair of her old blue jeans. 

A two pitch knock sounded on her door. A small smile rose to her lips. Draco, Presley, and she had arranged the sound. Hermione opened the door to see both men standing in the hallway. They both wore nearly identical smiles. Presley closed her door once she was fully out in the hall. 

“Thanks,” Hermione said. Presley nodded. She knew that he understood. Presley, unlike most Purebloods, had grown up in a Muggle family. Any injury he had when he was younger was healed the Muggle way. “Are we about to leave?” Hermione asked. Ginny, Lavender, Tonks, and she had said goodbye last night before their husbands took them home for the night. 

“Yeah,” Presley said. “I’m going to miss you, girl.” He pouted as he hugged her. Draco watched with a slight quirk of his brow. 

“You know, you can visit whenever you like,” Hermione gasped out from his shoulder. Presley was bad about misjudging his strength. A hug from him usually felt like her ribs were being crushed. Presley let go of her with a wide smile.

“Awesome,” he said. Draco shook his head at his friend and looped an arm around his shoulders. 

“Come on, we’ve got to princess to her castle,” Draco drawled. 

“Awe…Is her prince charming getting restless?” Presley teased. He brought his hand to his chin and looked back at Hermione. 

“Keep on and I’ll knock you both down the stairs…” Hermione grumbled. Presley looped back around and swept his second best friend into his arms. Hermione gave a small scream of surprise and Draco scooped up her crutches. “What are you doing?” Hermione demanded as Presley walked down the stairs.

“I’m guessing your just as eager to get back to your prince as he is to get to you if what Draco’s told me is any indication,” he winked back at the blonde who seemed to rapidly pale. Presley’s laugh echoed through the empty room at the bottom of the stairs. Molly came into the living room at the noise. Presley set Hermione down on the floor while Draco handed her the crutches from a distance. Hermione glared at her friend.

Molly smiled as she saw what Hermione was wearing-Arthur’s old light blue baseball shirt. He had driven her crazy for it when they visited Muggle London. It was during the summer after their children’s first year. Ginny, who had met Hermione at the train station, had asked the young girl through a letter if she wanted to come over during the summer break. Hermione had agreed. It was late day by the time they arrived in London; Arthur had decided to window shop while they waited for Hermione and her parents to arrive at Lexi’s Café. It was an experience Molly treasured just as much as the girl wearing it now. 

Stripped Bare

Spencer Reid’s uninjured leg began to bounce again as he looked toward the clock. Hermione had called him last night before he retired for the night. She had promised that she would be home around twelve today. It was now eleven fifty-eight. He bit into his bottom lip as he looked away from the clock. His mind was racing: Should he go over there? Should he call the team? Would she want to see him? Would she even want to see them? 

Spencer shook his head quickly in an attempt to dislodge the thoughts. He jumped as solid knocks came from his door. His eyes wandered toward the clock. The hand hadn’t moved. He sighed and struggled to his feet. He looked through the peep hole to see his full team outside. He leaned against his crutch and unbolted the lock. 

“What are you guys doing here?” He asked as he opened the door. JJ was the first inside. 

“Hermione comes back today right?” She asked, as she shrugged her purse higher on her shoulder. “We,” she looked at the rest of the team, “figured that we could drive you over there.” 

“She doesn’t get here until twelve…” Spencer said, looking at each member quickly. He didn’t know the way Hermione would transport, but he knew from the urgency in her tone that it wouldn’t be by commercial airlines or boat. She was counting on him to keep her secret. 

“We know, but we figured you could use the company until then,” Garcia said from beside Morgan. 

“After all, we wouldn’t want you attempting to drive yourself,” he joked from the hall. “Come on, pretty boy.” He motioned with a jerk of his head. “Your girl will be here in about…a minute.”

“Alright, alright,” Spencer said as he clicked the lock behind him. He was unaware of the grins that passed his team’s face as he stepped out into the hallway. He didn’t deny her being his girl! He shut the door and hobbled beside his team. “So, what’s your game plan?” He asked as they walked down the hall. 

“We thought we would just be at her house to surprise her,” Emily said as they entered the elevator. The entire team missed the brief look of discomfort that passed over Spencer’s face. 

Stripped Bare

“Some things never change…” Molly muttered. Presley let out a small bark of laughter at the reference. He often thought of Molly as his mother seeing as he never knew his biological one. It was the same with Arthur. 

His parents had put him up for adoption in around the same time Harry’s family was attacked. A note was left in his crib along with an envelope with his name on it. That very same envelope was tucked in his jacket. He had decided overnight that he would see his father today. ‘After all,’ Presley thought bitterly, ‘he’s close by.’ 

Hermione’s voice pulled him from his bitter thoughts. Draco and she stood at the doorway. Both of his friends wore a small tilt of the head; Presley noticed with great amusement that the direction of their tilt was the same. He jogged up to them. 

“Granger proposed that we use a vehicle once we’re in Virginia,” Draco said as they turned to walk out the door. Presley glanced over at her. 

“It’s a good plan. It would be a good cover for anyone waiting for her at her house like the Muggle friends you were talking about,” Presley said as he extended his arm to her. “I don’t suppose you have a car shrunk in that bag?” He joked. Hermione shook her head. 

“My parents took the only car we had when they moved,” Hermione said. 

“Of course not,” Presley sighed as they apparated away with a loud crack. 

Stripped Bare

It had been a good idea to use a car for the rest of the way. Hermione had called a service to pick Draco, Presley, and her up at near where they apparated. The boys had to contain their excitement and wonder at being inside the vehicle; Hermione had to contain her laughter. They arrived at the house at twelve fourteen. 

“You were right…” Presley whistled as he saw the vehicle parked in the driveway of her home. It was a SUV government issue. “I wonder what it would be like to take a right in one of those! Imagine all of the cool gadgets…” Hermione and Draco tuned their friend’s rambling out.

“I always am,” Hermione teased as the boys helped her from the car. Draco raised a golden eye brow as he watched her get her crutches situated underneath her arms. 

“Oh,” Draco laughed, “Right. What about that time you thought Harry’s gift was cursed in third year?” 

“Yeah, if I don’t remember you turned out to be wrong then,” Presley added. Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“It was a possibility!” Hermione argued as they started toward the house. Draco and Presley fell on either side of her. 

“Face it, Granger,” Presley teased as he thumped her on the tip of the nose, “Your momma bear instincts kicked in.”

“They seem to be close,” Emily noted as they attempted to watch the approach trio discreetly from the window. Unlike his team, Spencer was focusing solely on Hermione. His eyes scanned her entire body searching for injuries. She had small cuts on the side of her face and her hands were bandaged. 

“Is it just me or does she have a posse of attractive men?” Penelope noted as her eyes roamed the black haired one to Hermione’s left. Derek’s eyebrows rose. It was the second time a British man had distracted Penelope from him. Briefly, he wondered if he was losing his touch. 

“It’s not just you,” Emily said from beside Derek. Derek mentally sighed. He was definitely losing his touch. He looked back toward the window. Hermione and the two men were closer now. For a moment, he wondered if Hermione thought the same for her two friends. 

The entire team turned as the front door opened. They all looked at one another and prepared themselves. Hermione hobbled into the archway of her living room. 

“WELCOME HOME!” They all hollered. Hermione jumped while Draco and Presley laughed at her expression, but still they steadied her. A smile spread across her lips. 

“Thanks, guys,” Hermione said as she lowered her hand from her chest. Penelope held up a tray filled with cupcakes. “OH!” Hermione laughed, “you guys made it a little party!” 

“That’s the best kind of welcome home!” Presley announced from beside Hermione. 

“Well, there’s more than enough to go around, handsome,” Emily said as she plucked a cupcake from the tray. Penelope glared at her friend. “What?!” Emily demanded with a shrug. “She’s here now! Free cupcakes!” Hermione smiled fondly at the dark headed beauty. 

“Penelope would swat our hands each time we reached for one,” Spencer said. Hermione jumped at his closeness. A small blush spread to her face as an instanteous smile spread over her lips. “She wanted to wait until you got here…” A small blush tinted Penelope’s cheeks as Hermione turned her attention to her. 

“Thanks, Penelope. Now, get over here and give me one of those cupcakes, girl!” Hermione demanded with a flourished wave of her hand. Penelope laughed. 

“As the lady demands!” 

Stripped Bare

Lavender watched fearfully as darkness clouded her husband’s eyes. She had seen that look in the past. She hadn’t seen it in person, but had peeked into a memory called “the worst night”. The image flashed before her eyes:

~~“What are you doing here?” Ron had asked from the armchair in their old bedroom. A bottle of Jack Daniels balanced dangerously on the edge of the table. Hermione had looked him in the eye as shouldered her bag higher. 

“I’m here to get my stuff,” Hermione answered. Ron stood to his full height from the chair. The whiskey bottle toppled from the table beside her. Hermione didn’t cower down as he approached her. 

“Are you now?” He drawled. His red hair fell over one blue eye. 

“Yes, Ron, it’s over between-” The back of Ron’s hand cut off whatever speech she would have attempted. Hermione fell against the wall beside their walk in closet. She looked at him. Fight and horror battled in her eyes. Ron decked her in the stomach before she could react any more. The force of the punch sent Hermione to the floor clutching her stomach. 

“You think you can leave me?!” Ron demanded as he kicked Hermione across the ribs. She gasped out but didn’t scream as she doubled over around his leg. He only pulled back and kicked forward again. Hermione’s body smacked the white wall beside the closet. “I’m the best you’ll ever have!” He hollered as he kicked out again.

“Stupefy!” Hermione hollered powerfully, stopping Ron in mid kick. His body had been jolted backward. The plaster underneath him crumbled as he smacked the wall. He fell onto his bed. The frame shook underneath the sudden weight. He was unconscious.~~ 

The memory served as a reminder for Lavender. With a small amount of bitterness, she realized that she wouldn’t even be able to fend him off in his fits of rage. He had learned a lesson from that exchange with Hermione. He had taken Lavender’s wand and locked it away. He only allowed her to have it when she left home for appearances’ sake. For all the world knew, they were the happy little couple. They’re relationship was a complete dream. 

The irony of the public’s assumptions threatened to swallow Lavender whole. No one knew about the whiskey habit Ron had picked up. No one knew about the screams and holes punched in the wall. No one knew that the reason she was still with Ron was because she had nowhere else to go. No one knew how Ron really was, except for Hermione. 

As she stared at the storm clouds swirling in her husband’s eyes, her hand curled tighter around her wand as it rested in her pocket. Fred had just let the ball drop that Hermione had returned home. She could tell by the way his hand gripped hers tightly, that tonight would be bad. Unconsciously, her arm folded protectively around her stomach.


	24. Chapter 24

Stripped Bare

Chapter Twenty Four

“Spencer,” Hermione mumbled from her bed that Spencer had helped her too. Before the others had left, they had spoken of who would stay with Hermione. Spencer Reid had stood his ground against his team mates despite his own injury. The arguments his team attempted to put up were quickly shot down. At her mumble, he stopped his retreat from her room. “Will you sleep with me?” Hermione let out a small giggle at the redness that tinted his cheeks. 

Spencer quickly berated himself for the direction his thoughts turned. He was a gentleman, he reminded himself. Hermione watched him debate with himself. Her well-shaped brown eyebrow arched. He had no way of delaying an answer. The door was locked already. The alarm was triggered on both the Muggle protection system and the Wizarding one. If anyone apparated or flooed into her home, she would know it ahead of time. 

A small fond smile drifted onto her lips as she thought of the look of wonder on his face as he watched the Wizarding alarms fall into place over her home. He had looked so adorable with his mouth hanging open in a soft ‘o’. His eyes had chased the colors as they alerted her that the system was active. Once the colors died down, he had looked at her. She nearly forgot to breathe at the awe that rested in his brown orbs. As she recalled the image with perfect clarity, the bed dipped. Hermione rolled over slowly. Spencer avoided her gaze as he pulled the purple comforter over him. Hermione found herself smiling even as her eyes grew heavy. He was just too cute. 

Spencer felt as though his heart was going to pound out of his chest. He had never lain in a woman’s bed before; a woman had never asked him to lay with her. Surprise coated his mind when she scooted closer to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. His cheeks reddened and his body tensed. Hermione didn’t move her arm. Slowly, Spencer began to relax. Slowly, the sound of her breathing lulled him to sleep. Just before he fell asleep, he realized that he hadn’t thought of dilaudid all day. The craving for the vials he had hidden in a drawer almost didn’t exist. 

Stripped Bare

Lavender hissed as she stumbled into the yard of Hermione’s home. She raised a shaking hand to knock on her once-upon-a-time friend’s door. The darkness overshadowed her approach, but the colors of her house told her that Hermione knew. 

Stripped Bare

Spencer stayed sleeping. It was her magic that reacted once someone apparated or flooed near her home. Hermione slipped out from underneath his arms reluctantly. It had taken so long to get him to go to sleep. It had taken even longer for him to feel comfortable enough to hold her. She gave a reluctant sigh as she opened her bedroom door. She tightened her blue robe around her body and walked toward her front door. The knocks were constant and panicked. She drew her wand from her robe pocket and opened the door. 

Lavender startled at the wand that had been pointed directly at her face. She squeaked out her friend’s name through broken ribs. Hermione’s eyes widened at the face reflecting in the light. Or rather, part of the face reflecting in the light. The entire right side of Lavender’s face was bruised and her lip bloodied. 

“Lavender…” Hermione breathed as she threw the door open wider and ushered her former roommate inside. Lavender was shaking; her form was hunched in pain. Hermione’s instant worry was the child. “Lavender, is your stomach hurting? Did he…” Lavender shook her head quickly. 

“Just my ribs…” She breathed uncomfortably. Hermione’s grip clenched heavily on her wand and sparks shot from the end. “Hermione, don’t,” Lavender mumbled nervously. She had felt sting of Hermione’s magic brush over her when she had been attacked by Greyback. As good as Hermione was with magic, she didn’t want her going up against Ron. She tightened her hand around her friend’s wrist. 

“He can’t get away with this…” Hermione growled. “He can’t keep getting away with this…” Lavender flinched, then cried out softly at the pain. Hermione’s eyes softened. “We’ve got to get you to a hospital.” 

“But, but-” Lavender protested, “you healed the boys when you were on the run!” 

“We weren’t pregnant, Lavender!” Hermione exclaimed. 

“Can you even drive?” Lavender returned. The bite that would have been in her tone softened in concern. She knew that her friend was injured when she came here. If Ron came looking for her…Lavender’s breath stilled in her throat. She didn’t hear Hermione talking. 

“Call Morgan to come and take you to the hospital,” Lavender only caught the end of the sentence. Lavender knew for certain that there was no way to fight with Hermione. She seemed to have her mind set. Lavender didn’t have the chance to answer. Hermione had turned quickly on her heel and walked away. Lavender sank down awkwardly onto the couch. 

“Hermione?” Spencer called out softly as Hermione entered the room again. He sat up onto his elbows. “What’s goin’ on?” He asked. Hermione attempted not to shiver at the husky quality of his voice. This man was unknowingly sinful. 

“A friend of mine from school needs help,” Hermione confessed as she grabbed her cell phone. “Seeing that neither of us nor Lavender is able to drive, I’m going to call Morgan to come take us to the hospital.” The sleepiness vanished from Spencer’s eyes; he sat up fully and studied her closely. Hermione smiled softly. “It’s not me…” Spencer’s relief was only temporary; he realized that Hermione’s friend had been harmed.

“Is your friend alright-” Lavender’s curiosity had grown too high even with her injuries. She stood at the doorway with a curious and slightly smug expression despite the heavily bruising on it. Spencer’s question easily died in his throat. Hermione stared mutely at her friend. 

“So, you’re the one she was at the club at that night,” Lavender drawled. Hermione suppressed a groan while Spencer blushed. Hermione’s magic pulsed suddenly. Her eyes widened. 

“Lav, get in here!” Hermione demanded. Lavender furrowed her brow, but did as she asked. Hermione threw her phone to Spencer. “Call Morgan,” she demanded to him as she stepped out into the hallway. 

“Hermione!” Spencer started, but the bedroom door closing cut off his next sentence. As his fingers dialed the familiar number, he looked back to the woman sitting on the edge of Hermione’s bed. Despite the heavy bruising on her face, she seemed paler. He could hear the ringing, and then he heard something else. 

“Ron! Ron! You can’t see her!” They heard Hermione’s hurried statement. Spencer’s blood ran cold while Lavender’s mouth fell open.

“No…”


	25. Chapter 25

Stripped Bare

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Let me see her, Hermione,” Ron threatened. His large frame had never seemed more intimidating than in this moment. His breath smelled heavily of liquor. It was a stench that Hermione was beginning to relate with him. Hermione stood her ground despite the injury in her leg. Idly, she was amazed that he was able to Apparate and still be in possession of his limbs. 

“No, Ronald,” Hermione’s tone held a strong command. His dark blue eyes looked deranged. She had only seen that look when he wore that damned necklace. Despite her fear at what it meant, she stood her ground. If he got to Lavender not only would Spencer and Lav be in danger, but so would the child growing inside of Lavender. She gripped the wand in her pocket. Unknown to him, she had her wand aimed at his crotch. He would lose his boys with the slightest threatening move toward her. 

“Hermione, I’m not playing with you,” he growled. Hermione tipped her head back defiantly and stared into his deranged eyes. His fists were clenching slowly. His strong, freckled arms were shaking heavily. He was near snapping. “Hermione…move!” He snarled. He reached for her. Hermione stepped back and nearly fired the spell, but the sound of her front door smacking the wall stopped her. Derek Morgan leaned against the archway.

“Problem here?” Derek asked with a small quirk to his eyebrow. He easily studied the situation. Spencer had said that a friend of Hermione’s needed help, needed to be taken to the hospital. He had added that he thought the man that put her friend in her state was in the house and that Hermione had locked them in her bedroom. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Ron demanded in a snarl. Derek’s eyebrows curled upward as Hermione gripped her wand harder. She willed it to turn into a Taser. She had found out that it would take the shape of what she wanted if she pushed enough magic into it. She slowly removed it from her pocket as Morgan opened his mouth to speak.

“Derek Morgan, who are you?” he kicked from the wall. He could see Hermione withdrawing something from her pocket and neared closer to her. The red head seemed dedicated to block his way. Derek suppressed an outward expression. He had been threatened the young woman before. Why was he protective of her now? 

“Derek, Lavender needs to go to the hospital,” Hermione said, distracting the men from the contest they seemed to be having. 

“Like hell she does!” Ron snarled. “She’s coming with me!” Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“Lavender isn’t going anywhere with you. Not anymore,” Hermione denied him. Ron’s blue eyes narrowed. Derek raised his eyebrows at the commanding tone in Hermione’s voice. She stood so tall despite the injury. Once more, Derek felt power pulsate from her tiny frame. A small smile tugged at his lips, he really didn’t want to be in this man’s shoes. “So you can just shove that idea up your ass, you abusive prick!” Derek caught the movement before Hermione did. Ron’s arm was moving to strike her. Derek intercepted it quickly and bent Ron’s arm behind his back. There was a sickening pop as Derek applied pressure to Ron’s shoulder blades with his knee. Ron screamed out in anger and pain. Hermione flinched. 

“Bad move,” Derek growled. The fiery protectiveness he felt for women rose to the surface violently. “You better sober up fast, man,” Derek ordered. His brown eyes finally caught what Hermione had in her hand-a Taser. He smiled at her. She gave a small smile back. “You know how to use that?” He asked her. She nodded. “Good, because I’m going to ease pressure off of him. If he goes to lunge at you, take his ass down.” 

“Right,” Hermione whispered. Guilt clogged her senses for a moment: both for lying and for the idea of tasing Ronald. The moment Ron stood up she caught sight of the blue eyes she had once loved. They were filled with emotion, but she knew just how manipulative those eyes could be. She waited with tense shoulders for him to move. Her eyes widened slightly as red flashed through his blue eyes for a moment. “Ron?” She mumbled, slightly frightened. 

“Get away from me, Mudblood,” Ron hissed. Hermione’s heart broke at the sentence. Her “taser” slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor. Derek saw red. His fist smashed into the side of Ron’s jaw before the redhead could react. Ron smacked the floor hard. Derek planted his knee in between Ron’s shoulders and pulled both of wrists around his back. He slapped handcuffs on him and yanked him up. Hermione stared numbly at her once-upon-a-time friend. Deep down, she knew that something was wrong with her friend and that something was a lot larger than just a magical imbalance. Hermione closed her eyes to keep from looking into his eyes as he called her name, as he called for her help. He was back to himself, but she didn’t know for how long. Before he could say another word or struggle more, Hermione bent and picked up her taser. She didn’t even look at him as she hit the button. Ron gave three jolts before hitting the ground at Derek’s feet, unconscious. Derek looked up at Hermione with a slightly shocked expression, but he did not say a word. 

“Leave him here; we have to get Lavender to the hospital,” Hermione muttered. Derek nodded. It seemed that the ever-so-confident man didn’t know what to say now. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that her blood was in no way dirty. That want only grew as a tear smacked the hardwood as she turned to unlock her bedroom door. He never could stand the sight of a woman crying. 

Lavender was the first one out of the room. She gasped as she caught sight of the red hair poking out behind the couch. Once upon a time, she would have ran over to him and taken him in her arms. Now, she only stared at his fallen form. 

“Is he dead?” Lavender asked. Hermione shook her head. Derek and Spencer were waiting patiently at the front door for the women. Spencer noted the way Derek’s eyes seemed to cling to Hermione. His friend’s brown eyes were filled with concern.

“What happened?” He muttered to him quietly as he watched the women speak. Derek leaned over and began to break down what he had seen. 

“Just unconscious,” Hermione placed her hand on her friend’s arms, “let’s get you to the hospital before he wakes up.” Lavender didn’t argue nor did she take her eyes off of her husband’s unconscious body. As soon as the front door shut, she smiled weakly at Hermione. 

“I knew that it was a good idea coming to you,” she whispered. “You always know what to do.” Hermione suppressed telling her that she didn’t always know. She had never felt more helpless than she had in this moment. Her once-upon-a-time best friend could be possessed by a fragment of Voldemort’s soul. The Weasleys would have to know. They would have to know about the years of abuse for Lavender and the moment of abuse for Hermione. They would have to know how far their son had fallen. It broke Hermione’s heart to know that she had to be the one to tell them. 

Stripped Bare

Hermione waited patiently for the boys and Lavender to fall asleep before she stepped out of the emergency room. She clenched her wand tightly in her hand as she walked. Lavender had four broken ribs and five torn muscles in her legs. Ron had done that. Ron had beaten Lavender without regard to the life inside of her. Hermione would have to tell the Weasleys that Ron had done it. She would have to tell them that it could have been her. Ron could have done that to her. Hermione fought off a small sob as she walked quietly through the dimmed halls. She didn’t stop until she reached the darkened alleyway outside of the hospital.  
She leaned against the alleyway before gaining the confidence and courage to do what she had too. With tears threatening to build over, she apparated to the Weasley home. For once, she was thankful for the time differences. While it was twelve a.m. in the U.S., it was only six p.m. in England. She landed with a stunted grace outside of the Weasley home and hobbled up the steps to the front door. She closed her eyes and suppressed the urge to lean against the wood. 

She had never felt so awkward and unsure coming to the Weasley house before. She was bringing terrible news. She was bringing news she was sure was going to break Molly’s heart. Hermione took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock. The door flew open before she had the chance. A beaming Molly Weasley stood before her. 

“Hermione dear, you know you never have to knock!” She exclaimed as she ushered the injured girl inside. “Come in, come in, Fred and George were just about to show us a new product they were advertising at the joke shop so everyone’s here. Well, except Ron and Lavender….we tried getting ahold of them but couldn’t…” The worry in Molly’s voice felt like an iron rod threw Hermione’s heart. It must have shone on her face for Molly turned and took Hermione’s shoulders into her gentle hands. “What’s wrong, dear? Did something bad happen?” Hermione nodded. Tears beaded up in her eyes once more. 

“I’m really sorry, Molly,” she choked. All of the stress and pain she felt over the decision she had made filled her body. There was no turning back. She had to tell them now. She felt Molly’s arms wrapped around her small frame. The crutches she had been leaning on for support smacked the floor loudly. Hermione could hear the others pouring into the kitchen at the noise; she could hear the shocked exclamations of her name, but she couldn’t see them because of her tears. She could feel Molly pressing napkins into her hand. Hermione cursed herself silently at her weakness as she attempted to still her tears. She took a few deep breathes and readied herself to tell them the bad news. “Ron’s at my house in Quantico,” she told them bluntly. “He hurt Lavender.” Hermione turned her pleading eyes to Molly’s brown. “She’s in the hospital.” Sirius flung himself away from the table and began to pace. Remus closed his eyes and slumped down in the chair. Hermione’s eyes widened as Sirius breached her personal space bubble. He placed his hands on the edge of her chair and leaned forward.

“Did he ever hit you?” He asked. Hermione couldn’t lie when her best friend’s god father was speaking so passionately. She could see the anger and concern in his grey eyes. Hermione nodded. Molly gave a small wail from the corner and fell into Arthur’s arms.  
They had all suspected Ron of violent behavior. Lavender’s actions the night before had spoken volumes to the family. When Fred had announced that Hermione had left for Quantico, Lavender had looked so frightened. They had done nothing to help her. They had reassured themselves that nothing was wrong, that Lavender was simply fearful of her son’s famous Weasley temper. Molly could feel the guilt gnawing at her stomach. 

“That son of a bitch,” Fred growled angrily. “I’ll kill him!” He went to apparate, but found himself being held onto. Hermione Granger’s soulful brown eyes met his. He didn’t shake the hand on his forearm, but he did not calm down. He simply stood beside her and fumed. 

“He’s unconscious,” Hermione spoke. She waited a moment for her statement to sink in then she readied to deliver the final nail in the coffin. “I think that there is a fragment of Voldemort’s soul still remaining inside of him…” Instantly, a strong amount of outrage and disbelief filled the room. Hermione’s heart fell as she saw Harry’s face. It was a look she swore that she would prevent from ever touching his face again. A small stab of guilt rushed through her as she realized that she was the cause of it this time. 

“But…” Harry started to argue. Hermione readied herself for it. She stared up into his green eyes and dared him to argue that the facts weren’t there, that what they had all witnessed throughout the last two years was a lie. Presley cut the future argument off before it even began.

“It would explain why he suddenly grew more violent and why he’s magically imbalanced. The level of black practically pulsated from him the last time he was here,” Presley explained. The Weasleys fell silent underneath the implication.

“But why is Voldemort dead if a piece of his soul still resides in Ron?” Harry asked angrily. He glared slightly at Presley. He knew that he was ignoring some important facts that pointed in Ron’s possession, but he didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t have failed his best friend that way! He just couldn’t have. 

Harry was so concerned with his own thought process that he missed his wife’s slight shift in body movement. It wasn’t until she spoke that he realized she was uncomfortable with the conversation.

“It may not be a fragment of his soul, but Ron’s soul having been darkened by the experience.” Everyone in the room turned to look at the red head. Harry felt hope course through him at his wife’s words. Ginny met their eyes steadily. “Voldemort’s soul only magnifies the darkness you have in you. It doesn’t create it,” Ginny informed them. “Who had the longest exposure to Voldemort’s soul while you three were on the run?” She turned to her husband. It took both of them a moment to think on it. They had attempted to divide the time evenly, but they hadn’t known how sensitive Ron was to the locket’s whisperings. Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed:

“Ron.” The raven haired man couldn’t help the guilt and anger that bubbled up in his stomach. They hadn’t taken into account the idea that Ron may not have been strong enough to handle it. 

“We overestimated him,” Hermione admitted as if reading Harry’s thoughts. “We thought that he couldn’t handle the same amount of exposure as the rest of us…”

“Voldemort played off of our fears and our insecurities,” Ginny told them. “Ron has more of them than a normal person.” A conversation that had once included the full Weasley family now dwindled down to the few that had experience with Voldemort’s seductions. 

“So what do we do?” Mr. Weasley asked, attempting to draw the attention back to the needed direction.

“Tie him up and pour serum down his throat,” Sirius grumbled. Hermione looked at him. She couldn’t find it in her to be as horrified as Molly was. She understood the reasoning for it even as Sirius elaborated his idea to Molly. “Lavender and Hermione were just stepping stones in his violence, Molly. This could get ugly quickly if he is left to wander on the streets.”

“I think that he has a few moments were he is able to overcome Voldemort’s soul,” Ginny gave a small cough, “or overpowering the darkness in him,” Hermione stated, glaring playfully at Ginny. “Before I knocked him unconscious, he seemed truly remorseful, but it could be just the battering boyfriend act.” Sirius nodded. His decision was made. If there were some part of Ron left in the hull that resembled him, Sirius was bound and determined to bring him back. He didn’t want Ron to spend unneeded years dealing with more pain that necessary. He knew what that felt like. “He’s at my house on the rug. Get him before he wakes up,” Hermione told Sirius. He nodded. Hermione turned her eyes back to her family. “I’m sorry to leave, but Lavender’s still in the hospital along with Spencer and Derek. They will be wondering where I went if I’m not back.” 

“Of course, dear,” Molly whispered. Hermione’s heart broke as the elder woman staggered forward and hugged her. “Take care,” she demanded and she took Hermione’s face between her hands. Hermione nodded and kissed Molly’s cheek before apparating on the spot. 

She reappeared in the women’s bathroom. She leaned against the stall and gained what little composure she could before pushing open the bathroom door. She walked in silence back to Lavender’s room. She jumped slightly as she came face to face with an angry looking Derek. He crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. 

“Where were you?” He demanded in a low hiss. Thankfully, Spencer and Lavender were still asleep. Hermione turned her eyes back to Derek. 

“I went to go check on Ron,” Hermione lied. Over the years, she had gotten exceptionally well at lying. Derek seemed to get angrier at that. 

“And you didn’t think to wake anyone?!” He demanded. His tone rose slightly, but not enough to make Lavender or Spencer stir awake. “For goodness sake, Hermione, he was going to hit you when I walked in!” 

“I’ve got a taser!” Hermione defended. “Besides he was still unconscious!” Derek gave an aggravated huff and stomped toward the door. He stopped at the doorway and jerked his thumb to indicate that she follow him. Hermione pulled a very Ginny-like move and rolled her eyes before she followed him. 

“That’s not the point and you very well know it,” Derek told her as he clicked the door closed. “If he had hurt you…” Derek trailed off as if feeling awkward by his admission. Hermione’s eyes softened slightly.

“I can take care of myself, Derek,” Hermione stated softly. Derek opened his mouth to protest; Hermione placed a hand on his arm softly. “But next time I think of doing something reckless, I will call you for back up, promise.” Hermione reassured. She watched him shake his head slightly.

“Okay,” he stated in a low voice, “but I’m still mad at you.” He told her. Hermione gave a small laugh. Derek threw his arm around her shoulder and led her back into the room. Hermione curled herself into the armchair beside Spencer. A sense of calm replaced the emotional unrest she had felt as she curled near him. A small amused twitch touched her lips as she caught Derek staring at her. 

“Are you going to continue staring at me until I fall asleep?” Hermione asked lightly. Derek gave her a small amused smile. 

“Yup,” he told her. “Have to make sure you don’t slip out again.” Hermione gave a small laugh. She was tempted to tell him that no matter how well he was watching she could still get away, but she did not. Hermione gave a small yawn. The day had been rather taxing on her. She slipped into sleep quickly. She was blissfully unaware that in Devon, England, Ronald Weasley was calling out for her in vain.


	26. Chapter 26

Stripped Bare

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ron stared up at Sirius and Remus. His pleas to see Hermione, to hear from Hermione, to be allowed to apologize to Hermione had been ignored. He honestly couldn’t be angry with them for it. He understood. He had attempted to attack her in her own home. Bile rose up in the throat. 

“What’s happening to me?” He asked. Sirius’ eyes couldn’t help but soften at the broken tone in which the boy spoke. Remus leaned forward slightly. He was confident that if the darkness or Voldemort’s silver of soul took over again he wouldn’t be any immediate danger; after all, Ron was chained to the chair by magical binds.

“That’s what we’re going to find out, Ron,” Remus reassured him. It hurt the werewolf to see one of students and good friend be in pain this way. He had doubted Hermione when she said that he had returned to the Ron they all knew before she knocked him out, but now there was no room for it. Ronald Weasley could over power whatever it was that was holding him captive if only for a little while. Remus straightened and looked toward Sirius. He was the only one that could do this effectively without harming Ron. It was surprising really that Sirius was skilled at Occlumency and Legilimency. It was surprising because Remus hadn’t known that Sirius had learned it. 

“Will it hurt?” Ron asked again from his chair. He could feel the seductions of the darkness luring him in once more. He closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘No!’ He demanded, pleaded. ‘I’ve just broken away!’ The look of fear and hurt on Hermione’s face flashed back through his mind. He ceased the image as a driving reason to fight back. The one thing he never wanted to do was hurt her and ever since the war he had been doing just that. He jumped as he felt a prodding in his mind. His eyes widened. He focused on the source of the prodding: Sirius Black.

“Stop fighting him,” Remus demanded gently. “He’s not Voldemort. He is not trying to hurt you.” Ron nodded and relaxed into the invasion.

Sirius was mildly horrified by what he was seeing. Normally, a person’s mind takes the shape of the place that is most comfortable to them. All Ron had was darkness left and right. Sirius walked farther into the redhead’s mind and shivered. The temperature kept dropping drastically the further he entered. Then, he saw it: the only light in the darkness surrounding him. It was Ron except this Ron seemed to be struggling against chains. He mouth was open in a silent scream as he fought. A chill ran down Sirius’ body. The chains that held him slowly began to take shape. Sirius’ eyes widened farther at the shape. It was Ron also, but with blood red slits for eyes. Pain wracked Sirius’ mind.

Both Ron and Remus jumped as Sirius let out a sharp scream and fell to the floor. Ron closed his eyes and leaned against the chair they had tied him too. Remus kneeled next to his friend and touched his shoulder. Sirius looked over at him with wide, horrified eyes.

“Ginny was right. The darkness in him has taken on a shape. It’s him, but with Voldemort’s eyes,” Sirius recounted. “Somehow the darkness that was already manifested in Ron got magnified by tenfold.”

“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” Ron stated, coldly. Remus and Sirius looked over at Ron. His eyes were slightly red around the edges. Remus’ breath froze in his chest; he looked to Sirius for conformation. Sirius nodded and raised his wand before Remus could stop him.

“Stupefy.” Sirius stated dryly. Ron went slack against the chair. Remus looked toward him. “That thing in Ron cast me out like I was a fly!” Sirius informed him. “We don’t want that version of Ron getting loose.” Sirius ran a hand through his long, curly black hair. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Ron had to be placed in the mentally ill ward at St. Mungo’s.” Remus stood still as Sirius departed the room. They had arranged on the journey to the dungeon in Grimmauld Place that one would stay to watch him while the other would tell the family what they learned. Even so, Remus could still hear Molly’s pained wail. 

Stripped Bare

“Go home, you guys!” Lavender told them all as the doctor left once more. “I’ll be fine!” She encouraged. Derek had already left once to see if Ron was still at Hermione’s house. He was even more reluctant to leave when he found Ron missing. 

“You two, go on home,” Derek told Spencer and Hermione, “I’ll stay here for a little while longer-”

“Better yet, Derek, I’ll notify the security staff and hospital staff that her husband is loose,” Hermione told him. Derek’s mouth opened to protest. Hermione held up her hand and soldiered on, “I doubt he would come here.” Lavender smiled at her tentative friend.

“Go home,” she reinforced to Derek. The large man finally consented with a small sigh. He pushed his phone number into Lavender’s hand. Hermione smiled softly at the action. Lavender took it from him with a slightly confused look in her eyes. 

“Call me if anything happens,” Derek demanded of her. Lavender nodded, her confusion was still clearly playing on her face. Hermione smiled and shook her head. Spencer tapped her hand softly. Hermione allowed him to help her stand. He kept his weight on his uninjured foot. Hermione grabbed her crutches and turned to Lavender.

“And contact me if he comes back. You know that I’ll come running,” Hermione reassured. Lavender’s confused look vanished at Hermione’s reassurance. She smiled brightly.

“I know you will, now go home!” She stressed. Hermione nodded and allowed both Spencer and Derek to lead her out of the hospital. 

Hermione furrowed her brows as Derek drove past her house. She pointed in the direction he just past and looked at him oddly. Derek looked at her.

“You’re not going back there tonight. Just in case Ron comes back or if he never left,” Derek told her. “I admit that I didn’t check every room.” Hermione was too exhausted to fight with him. The late hour she had left for the Weasleys’ and the conversation had left her drained. 

“So where are you taking me? Spencer’s?” Hermione asked. Derek nodded. Hermione looked over at Spencer. He didn’t even look surprised. He just smiled sheepishly at her. Hermione’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “The two of you talked about it when you went to get coffee this morning, didn’t you?” Derek laughed a little.

“Yes, ma’am, we did,” he answered. “Behave, you two!” He teased as they climbed out of the car. Hermione glared at him. He chuckled and pulled away quickly. 

Spencer led Hermione into his apartment. Amusement danced in Hermione’s eyes. The apartment was very much a nerd’s bachelor pad. About three bookshelves lined one wall; the television was pushed in the corner underneath the window. The couch and armchairs faced the front door. On the other side of the door was his cozy, little kitchen. It reminded her of her flat that she shared with Ron. She smiled softly. Spencer shifted awkwardly.

“There’s only one room, so one bed…I’ll…uh…take the couch,” Spencer said. Hermione shook her head.

“No, no, it’s your bed,” Hermione argued. She knew that this argument would happen when Derek dropped them off. She had hoped that Spencer wouldn’t start it; after all, they had shared a bed for a few moments the night Lavender apparated in. Spencer looked at her. 

“Well, my mom would kill me if I made you sleep on the couch,” he told her with a teasing smile. With a small shock, she realized that he was only teasing her to get rid of some of the awkwardness between them. Hermione smiled back at him. 

“And the couch would kill your back!” She argued back. This type of “arguing” was relieving. This argument was very playful. Hermione could get used to this, she reasoned. 

“I suppose,” Spencer whispered suddenly. Hermione tilted her head. “We’ll have to share the same bed…” Hermione smiled at the bashfulness in his tone. 

“I suppose we will,” Hermione told him. He smiled softly at her. Hermione returned it. Spencer leaned forward slightly before leaning back again on his heels. Hermione smiled and caught his hand in hers. He looked at her. Hermione, partly leaning and partly pushing upward on the crutches, stood up on her tiptoes. She pressed her lips to his. He smiled against her lips before kissing her back. She fell back onto her feet when her leg began to burn. She smiled at the way he looked. His eyes were still closed then they opened slowly to reveal his brown eyes. They stood there a moment looking into one another’s eyes. 

“What are we?” Spencer asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Hermione’s heart skipped a small beat as she looked into his questioning, yet demanding eyes. Spencer Reid very much wanted an answer. Hermione could not, would not deny him that. A small voice told her that she would deny him anything. 

“What do you want us to be?” Hermione returned. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed softly underneath the question. He thought back to all of the emotions he felt for her.

“I want to be the only one you look at in a romantic light. I want to wake up to you every morning and go to sleep next to you and only you every night,” his eyebrows furrowed farther and his cheeks flushed brightly as he spoke. Hermione smiled softly despite the feeling of her racing heart. “I’ve never been good at studying my feelings, but I think that they are saying I want you to be mine. My girlfriend, I mean. I would never dream of treating you as a possession…” He hurried to add. Hermione stood on her tiptoes and kissed him once more. Hermione sank back onto her heels and giggled lightly at the look on her Spencer’s face. 

“I want those things too, Spencer. And it’s not Virginia that’s my home, it’s you.” Hermione’s face flamed near the end of her declaration, but the embarrassment was well worth it to see Spencer smile. 

“So, I’ll ask again, what are we?” Spencer repeated; there was a small blush on his cheeks at the declaration of hers. His tone was soft and hopeful. It warmed Hermione’s heart to hear him. She smiled softly.

“There’s really only one option at this point,” Hermione told him. “I suppose that I’m your girlfriend and you’re my guy.” Spencer smiled and let out a small chuckle. Hermione beamed up at him. He leaned down and kissed her lips. Hermione’s eyes widened as she felt something wet slide across the bottom of her lip. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Once upon a time, she would have told anyone that persistently asked that Ronald Weasley was a great kisser. Now, she would have to rebuke that statement. Spencer Reid was not a great kisser but an amazing one. She easily melted into his mouth. When he pulled away, both of their lips were red and wet. It took Hermione a moment to come back down to earth. “Okay, that’s settled.” Hermione muttered. She looked around his apartment for a moment before turning her eyes back to him. “So where’s your bedroom?” Hermione asked. A confused look quickly lit Spencer’s face. Hermione’s face flushed as she thought of how that would sound to someone other than Spencer. “Sleeping? The reason we came back to the apartment?” Hermione clarified. 

“Oh!” Spencer mumbled with a nod. “Come on, I show you.” He told her. Hermione followed him closely. The moment they stepped into his bedroom, their feelings seemed to change. Hermione glanced over at Spencer out of the corner of her eye to find him looking at her. The sexual tension they had built up was now radiating throughout the room, begging to be resolved, but neither would make the first move. Hermione cursed herself vehemently. Instead of feeling like the adult woman she was, she felt as though she was seventeen once again. 

“Do you mind if I borrow a shirt of yours to sleep in? I don’t feel like traveling to my house to get some clothes,” Hermione asked him. Spencer swallowed at the mental image were words gave, but nodded. 

“My T-shirts are in the second drawer,” he informed her. “Would you mind getting me one while you’re over there? Button-up shirts aren’t that comfortable to sleep in.” Hermione nodded in agreement and tossed a dark shirt over to him. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” Hermione told him as she walked toward his bathroom. Spencer watched her walk away. As soon as the door closed, he cursed his own inability. He was a virgin and he was certain that it showed. He put his shirt on with a small dejected feeling. He had no doubt that they would have sexual intercourse eventually. He just hoped that she wouldn’t be disappointed by his inexperience. Many of his thoughts about his inexperience fled when the bathroom door opened and he caught site of a creamy thigh. His heart beat instantly sped up. His eyes traveled up those legs to his T-shirt and up to her face. He smiled sheepishly as he caught her amusing smile and dancing eyes. “See something you like, Doctor?” She teased. 

“Very much,” he complimented. Hermione’s body gave a small shiver at the seductive quality his voice picked up. Assertive Reid was rearing his confident head. Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he walked toward her. Vaguely, she wondered if it was too soon for them to do anything sexual. Those thoughts slid from her mind as unimportant as his fingertips touched her thighs and ran up. Hermione didn’t want to stop him as his hands reached her waist; instead, she pulled his head down to her lips. Spencer slid his hands around her waist to pull her closer as their lips met over and over again. Hermione pulled at his belt. The action brought his hips closer to her and partly brought him back to earth. “Hermione,” he said against her lips. 

“We need to stop,” he whispered. Hermione made a small noise in the back of her throat.

“I don’t want too,” Hermione protested; her lips were very insistent against his neck. Spencer swallowed in the attempt to ignore his body’s demands that he not wait either. “And I know that you don’t want too,” she added. 

“The doctor said no strenuous activity…” He reminded her weakly. Hermione stopped her assault on his senses for a moment and leaned back to look at him. Her eyes were serious, but teasing.

“I’m a witch, remember? I can heal the possible damage,” Hermione told him. Spencer raised his eyebrows at it. 

“That’s not the point, Hermione,” he told her. “I don’t want to cause you any pain,” he clarified. Hermione’s eyes softened. A small pout came onto her lips. 

“Fine,” she sighed, “we’ll stop. But you so owe me,” Hermione told him. Spencer didn’t know whether to laugh or not. He only hoped that she wasn’t angry at him for stopping them. As Hermione pulled the covers back on his bed, she raised her eyebrows at him. “You coming to bed?” She asked. A small teasing smile lit her lips, “I promise not to assault you in your sleep.” Spencer gave a small chuckle as he approached the bed. Hermione smiled happily at him as she climbed into the dark blue sheets.

For a moment, he couldn’t help but stare at the image she made. He had never imagined a woman in his bed before, but now that she was here he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Her wild brown hair took up one full pillow. His fingers brushed the wild hair off from her face. He smiled softly. It didn’t matter to him what her hair looked like, she was the most beautiful person in the world to him. His heart jumped lightly as she rolled over. Her brown eyes met his. A small, quick grimace touched her lips before she smiled. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“I should be the one asking you that,” Hermione told him. Spencer smiled, but stared at her sternly. Hermione’s grimaced returned.

“I’m just a little sore around the stitches,” she told him sheepishly. Standing on her leg without her crutches had made her injury known; the activity she had been participating in had distracted her from the uncomfortable feeling. Spencer grimaced.

“Roll over,” Spencer commanded softly from his position on the bed beside her. Hermione raised her eyebrows but did as he asked and lay on her stomach. She propped her head up on both of her arms. Spencer smiled softly at her once she was fully comfortable. She returned it. She jumped as his warm hands touched the bend of her knee. His fingertips made a warm path up her leg as he pushed his T-shirt up.

“Hey, hey,” she mumbled, “Doctor said no strenuous activity…” She reminded him. Spencer glared at her without any really heat. The stitches on her thigh stared up at him. They stole his attention away from her. Hermione’s brown eyes never left his facial expressions. She gnawed her own bottom lip as she worried about what he thought of them. “Are they hideous?” Hermione voiced. Spencer looked up quickly.

“No, no…” He attempted to soothe. “It looks like they’ll have to come out soon though.” He informed her. Hermione hummed lightly from her position on the pillow. Very often, the BAU agent wished that he had the smooth confidence of Derek Morgan; he could tell her that the scars didn’t matter. She was still beautiful to him. But alas, he did not have that confidence. He was simply socially awkward Spencer Reid so he focused on what he could do for her. Spencer worked his fingers around the aching muscle. He bit into his lip as he focused on not stretching the stitches. 

Hermione’s eyes slid closed at the feeling the massage gave her. No one had done this for her before. It only made her appreciate the sweet man more. The uncomfortably tight feeling in her muscle slowly relaxed with every soft swipe of his fingers. Hermione bit into her jaw as she tried to suppress a soft groan. Key word being tried; a small moan slipped from her lips instead. The reaction was instant. Spencer froze; her face caught fire. 

“Am I hurting you?” He choked as he attempted to ignore what that noise had awakened within him. Memories of her lips and hands pulling at his body brought a small shudder through him. He focused on pushing away his returning arousal. 

“No,” Hermione mumbled. Her face was now buried into her folded arms. Spencer gave a small nod and continued to message the muscles around the stitches. He was careful to keep his hands from wandering further upward. Silence stretched between them which worried Spencer some. Hermione was not known for long silences. 

“Hermione?” He called. No answer. Spencer took his hands away from her thigh and looked at her face which had been turned away from him. A small smile curved his lips when he noticed that she fell fast asleep. “Sleep well, beautiful,” he told her as he reached around her and turned off the light.


	27. Chapter 27

Stripped Bare

Chapter Twenty-Seven

When Ron finally came back to consciousness, he found himself looking at a white room inside of St. Mungo’s. He attempted to stretch, but found himself unable. He glanced down at his wrists and drew in a sharp breath. His wrists were bound with brown, magical resistant leather. He tested his feet and found them bound as well. He was strapped down. Ron’s eyes filled up with tears of frustration. Why would they do this to him? His brown eyes began to search the room frantically. He had to know why. What had he done? Scenario after scenario ran through his mind. All involved him hurting one of his family members. His fears rested slightly as he caught sight of his mother’s red hair lying over the chair beside him. She had fallen asleep there. Then, he understood the reason. If they had been worried for their own safety, none of his family would have been in the room. His heart clenched tightly. The restraints were for his safety. He swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. If only he had been strong enough to fight those whispers…

“Mr. Weasley, I’m glad you’re awake.” Ron looked over to see a very beautiful black headed woman. He assumed that she was a doctor at St. Mungo’s. “Your friends have informed me of your case.” She told him. Ron bowed his head in shame. “We’ll do what we can to keep you from having to be permanently detained in the Ward,” Ron couldn’t help but smile softly at how much she sounded like Hermione in that moment, “but you may have to spend a few weeks there.” His smile fell from his lips. 

“What are the chances that you can cure me?” He asked as he fought with a sudden headache. He had learned long ago what it was related too: the darkness. The doctor smiled sadly at him. 

“We’ve never had a case like this,” she admitted quietly, “but this hospital will do everything we can to ensure that a war hero gets the best treatment possible.” Ron closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the pillow. Those words gave him little comfort. He could no longer see himself as anyone’s hero.

He didn’t see Sirius and Remus leaning against the doorway of his room. They had brought him here after Sirius’ spell had knocked him unconscious. Surprisingly, it had been Molly’s decision to bring Ron to St. Mungo’s. The curtain that the nurse had drawn before he could awaken blocked them. Remus leaned toward his best friend. 

“Do you think we’ve done the right thing by bringing him here?” Remus asked him. Sirius nodded, still looking ahead at the curtain. 

“He’s a danger to society, Remus.” 

 

Spencer’s brows furrowed as the ringing of his phone reached his ears. He could feel weight on his chest and recalled that Hermione was in bed with him. A feeling of contentment washed through him. He could feel her heart beat against his stomach. Despite the unnerving feel of it, it brought him comfort. It brought him so much comfort, in fact, that his eyes began to drift close again. They snapped open when his phone gave an annoyingly loud beep. He reached for his cell phone with an annoyed, inaudible grumble. Got a case, it read, be in the office at five. Spencer looked at the clock on his phone and sighed. He had one hour. Spencer looked back over at the girl that shared his bed. Despite his annoyance, a small smile spread onto his lips. He reached out and touched her wild curls gently. He left her hair to stroke her cheek before attempting to get up. A small groan escaped her lips as the bed shifted. Spencer froze. His arms were still braced on the edge of the bed. 

“Spencer?” She called as she opened her eyes. Spencer turned his head toward her. He ran a hand through his brown hair. 

“I got called in on a case. I have to be there in an hour,” he informed her. Hermione frowned lightly. 

“So, you have to go in at…” She looked over her shoulder at the alarm clock beside the nightstand, “five. Five a.m.?” She looked at him with wide eyes. Spencer smiled almost regrettably as he headed toward the closet. He had pulled his shirt off on the way. Hermione’s breath hung in her throat. She couldn’t stop her eyes from studying the muscles in his back as he pulled a button up from the closet. 

“Yeah, it’s a drawback of being an FBI agent,” he spoke as he pulled the shirt on over his back and turned. Hermione was propped up on her elbow and watched him button it up. Spencer paused as if focusing really hard on buttoning the shirt. “Could you live with it?” He asked quietly. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. 

“Live with what?” Hermione asked. Sleep still had her mind muddled. Spencer looked up at her shyly. 

“Long hours and late night calls,” Spencer clarified. Hermione smiled softly and climbed from underneath the covers. Spencer watched her as she crawled toward him. Spencer swallowed at the image she made. His eyes were slightly darkened by the image of her crawling toward him, but he easily shook it off. There would be more time for activities like that when he didn’t have a mission and when she was better.

“Is that a proposal, Dr. Reid?” Hermione asked teasingly. Spencer gave a small chuckle and shook his head.

“A little early for that,” he responded with amusement. “But, I already know that I plan on having you in my life for an extended period of time.” Hermione smiled at the typical Reid answer. 

“I could,” Hermione answered easily as she stood from the bed. She stretched widely with her arms above her head. His eyes were instantly drawn to the hem of his shirt. In her stretch, it had risen up her thighs. He swallowed. He frantically repeated restraint in his head. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and stood up on her tiptoes. “As long as I have you,” Hermione told him. Her breath washed over his cheek and ear. Spencer shuddered lightly but wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“Thank you,” he whispered to her. Hermione smiled and tightened her grip on him.

“You never have to thank me for caring for you,” Hermione reassured him. She dropped her arms from his shoulders slowly. Hermione looked up at him and smiled. Spencer smiled back, leaned down, and kissed her deeply and powerfully. Hermione’s eyes slid closed as she responded to him. Spencer forced himself to pull away from her. 

“I have to get ready,” he excused. Hermione nodded. 

“You need any help?” She offered. Spencer looked at her again. Once more, his eyes fixed on the way his shirt fit her. He swallowed. 

“Will you…uh…change shirts or put on some jeans?” Hermione tilted her head in confusion and looked back down at her legs. Her eyes fell instantly onto the stitches; she flinched. Spencer raised his eyebrows at her. 

“I thought you didn’t mind-” Hermione started. Spencer’s eyes widened as he realized how she had taken his statement. Packing a bag was completely forgotten. He crossed the length between them quickly and took one of her hands in his. With the other hand, he raised her head so that he could see her eyes. 

“It’s not that,” he soothed. He ran his hand down to the hem of the shirt and traced the skin there. Hermione’s breathe caught in her throat. “It’s distracting,” he mumbled, swallowing. Hermione nodded. Spencer pushed himself away from her slowly and returned to his bag. “So what are you going to do today?” He asked. 

“Well, you said last night that you thought the stitches would have to come out soon. You reminded me that I’m due for a checkup with the doctor that treated me.” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows as he turned to her. 

“Isn’t he in England?” Spencer questioned. She nodded and bent down to pull the jeans she had worn yesterday up. Spencer blushed and turned his head away from her. He busied himself with his bag. Hermione blushed as she realized that he had been looking. 

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I’ll be there and back before you know it,” Hermione reassured. Spencer smiled softly through his blush. 

“Will you stay here?” He asked. Hermione tilted her head. “I…it’s just…I like knowing that you are safe.” He explained awkwardly. “And, you will be here. Ron doesn’t know where I live…Right?” 

“He doesn’t even know about you,” Hermione admitted. “It’s not that I don’t want them to know, it’s just Ron’s very unstable at the moment. I don’t want him targeting you and bullets don’t do much against an armed wizard.” Spencer nodded as he zipped up his bag. 

“So, will you stay?” Spencer pressed. Hermione smiled softly. She grabbed his arm gently. Spencer turned his head. Hermione kissed him gently. He wore a small smile when she pulled away. Hermione rubbed his cheek with her thumb. 

“Of course,” Hermione reassured. “I’ll be here when you return.” Spencer smiled and pulled his bag from the bed they had shared. She followed him to the living room of the apartment. She tilted her head as he turned toward her. He wrapped a hand around the side of her neck and pulled her face to him. Hermione sighed softly as their lips met. He kissed her very thoroughly and passionately. Spencer forced himself to stop and pulled away. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Spencer told her. He grabbed one of her hands in his and squeezed. 

“I’ll be waiting,” Hermione reassured him. Spencer smiled lovingly at her. He let her hand fall back to her side as he stepped away. Hermione tangled her hand into the shirt he had given her and watched as the apartment door closed. She turned away with a small sigh and headed toward the kitchen. Breakfast, first, then she would call the doctor to schedule an appointment.

 

Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly at her son. He was still in shock from the news that the doctor had just delivered him. If his condition couldn’t be cured, then Ron would have to take medication regularly for the rest of his life. If it didn’t, then he would have to be admitted into the hospital under solitary confinement. Ron’s hand held hers tightly in his own. 

“Is Lavender okay?” He choked, guilt tore at his stomach. He had done exactly what he had been taught not too. He had let everyone down by getting polluted by Voldemort’s influence. Ron’s heart was shattering; his body was shaking heavily underneath the pain of what he had done. 

“She’s in the hospital at Quantico. She has broken bones, but the baby is fine,” Fred stated from beside the bed. Ron stared numbly at the white bed sheet. He could hear the anger in Fred’s voice. It only increased his feelings of guilt and self-hatred. 

“When do I start the treatment?” Ron asked suddenly. This was one of those rare moments when he was in control of himself. He knew it wouldn’t last. 

“You already have,” the nurse told him, “when you came into the hospital, we gave you an anti-psychotic. It’s only helping because it’s at the strongest dosage we could find.” Ron swallowed and bowed his head. The nurse quickly exited the room as she felt Molly’s glare on her. The mother took Ron’s hand in hers and allowed him to squeeze as much as he wanted. Finally, Ron buried his head into his mother’s shoulder and cried. 

 

“We can transfer the appointment to a local doctor if you would like,” the doctor told her. Hermione smiled happily.

“I would like that,” Hermione answered. If she went to England, she would want to see Ron to make sure that he was fine. She knew that she would have to face him eventually, but right now, the wounds were still fresh. Hermione would only end up fighting with him as she had many times before. It just wasn’t worth the energy right now. Hermione gave them the name of a doctor’s office closest to Spencer’s apartment. 

“Alright, you have an appointment at one,” he told her. 

“Thank you,” Hermione stated before hanging up. She stood at the kitchen counter for a few minutes. “I have entered an exclusive relationship with Spencer Reid,” Hermione stated to the empty room. A happy smile spread across her lips. 

Around ten, her cell phone rang from inside the bedroom. Hermione set aside the book she had borrowed from Spencer’s bookshelf and stood cautiously from the seat. She was making an attempt at walking without the crutches. The stitches didn’t even react to her walking on it. She smiled as she reached the phone. “This is Hermione,” she told the caller. 

“Hi, Hermione, this is Penelope,” the bubbly caller greeted. Hermione smiled. “I was wondering if I could come over to your place today or if you could come over here…to the BAU. It gets kind of lonely…” Hermione smiled softly and sat back against the bed.

“Well, I have an appointment with the local doctor at one, but since you are at work, I’ll come to you.” A small clap came over the line. Hermione smiled. 

“I’ll be here,” Garcia reassured. “Oh! I’ll even give you a ride if you want!” 

“Ah, I should be fine. If it’s healed enough for the stitches to come out, I’m certain that driving a car can’t be too difficult.” Hermione reasoned. Garcia made a small hum of agreement. 

“Alright, well, I’ve got to call the team,” Penelope told her. Hermione smiled softly.

“Give them my love,” Hermione told her. Penelope smiled.

“Will do,” she reassured before the line clicked off. Hermione pocketed her phone and walked toward Spencer’s front door. She bit into her lip. She didn’t have a key, but she didn’t feel comfortable leaving his door unlocked. Then, Hermione smacked her forehead against her palm with a small groan. Ron’s voice repeated in her head asking if she was a witch or not. Hermione flicked the lock in place and closed the door. 

Minutes later, she was walking into Garcia’s office. The colorful woman spun in her chair and hugged her the moment she walked in. Hermione smiled and hugged her friend back. They parted just as the phone rang. Garcia bustled away from her and toward the phone. She clicked the talk button with a pen.

“I was beginning to think that you guys had forgotten all about me!” Garcia exclaimed. 

“As if,” Hermione snorted. Garcia grinned and looked over her shoulder at her friend. 

“You’re right. I am pretty unforgettable,” Garcia praised jokingly. Hermione laughed.

“Hermione,” Spencer Reid called, “why is she there? Is everything okay?”

“Relax, Boy Wonder,” Garcia said. 

“Penelope got lonely,” Hermione finished for the tech. “But you guys are calling for a reason. So spit it out.” Garcia laughed from beside her, but the woman’s fingers were at the ready to search. 

“The guy’s a freelance musician. He played keyboard for the girl’s high school musical,” Hermione listened attentively to Derek explain the UNSUB they were looking for. “We talked to the school and they gave us a name: Terrance Wakelin.” Penelope repeated the name to herself before telling the team on the other line of the amount she had found. 

“He may work at a studio or a record company,” Spencer stated. Hermione smiled softly at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. No matter how far away, it still made her heart skip slightly. Hermione rolled her eyes at herself. She was becoming a hopeless romantic. 

“I am going to cross reference IRS records. Gotcha! Mount Vernon just outside the Broncs: A and L Studios. Looks it went belly up a few months ago, but he still works there as a security guard. 

“Thanks Mama. You’re the best,” Derek praised before hanging up the phone. Hermione smiled at her friend’s happy smile and the way her eyes stayed on the phone. Hermione chuckled.

“Alright, out with it, how long have you fancied Mr. Morgan?” Hermione asked from the chair she had seated herself in. Penelope looked toward her with wide eyes. 

“I don’t,” Penelope argued. Hermione’s eyebrows climbed her forehead. “I don’t!” Penelope exclaimed, nervous underneath the look the British woman was giving her.

“I haven’t seen a case of denial this bad since my best friend and Ginny Weasley,” Hermione commented. 

“What about you and Dr. Reid?” Penelope returned quickly, expected Hermione to blush. Instead, Hermione smiled.

“That doesn’t count,” Hermione drawled. Penelope blinked and leaned forward. 

“Why not?” Penelope demanded. “It’s the exact same situation-”

“AH HA!” Hermione exclaimed loudly, pointing a finger at her friend. “You just admitted that you are in the same boat Spencer and I were in.” 

“Were?” Penelope caught quickly. Hermione smiled widely. 

“We got together over the night,” Penelope cat-whistled at Hermione’s statement. Hermione rolled her eyes at the conclusion she had come too. 

“Doctor said no strenuous activity,” Hermione repeated the same words she had told Spencer the night before. A small blush spread onto her cheeks at the memory of his hands on her thighs. Penelope threw her head back and laughed hard. Hermione smiled awkwardly underneath her embarrassment before falling into laughter with the technical analyst. 

“So, you’re going to jump his bones the moment those stitches come out?” Penelope questioned teasingly. Hermione’s blushed spread a little more across her cheeks. She shook her head. Penelope’s mouth fell open. “Why not?! The sexual tension between the two of you could be cut with a dull butter knife! And Lord knows that the man needs a good roll in the hay to take some of that tension off…” Hermione’s face was flushed horribly by the time Penelope was finished with her rant. 

“I…um…have never had sex before, Penelope…” The technical analyst’s mouth fell open at Hermione’s admission. 

“Never? But didn’t you live with Ron for months?” Penelope asked. Hermione nodded. A small scowl drifted over her lips as she recalled the reason.

“He said that he wanted to wait until we were married,” Hermione drawled sarcastically. “Then I walk in and find him in bed with my old roommate.” 

“Oh, he’s just…” Penelope started; she seemed to be at a struggle for words. Hermione smirked as an idea to lighten the mood the conversation had placed them in. 

“In-despicable,” Hermione said, forming her word like Sylvester the Cat. Penelope blinked in shock before falling into laughter. The alarm on her watch sounded. She jumped and looked down. “Twelve. I gotta go,” Hermione told Penelope as she stood. The tech analyst nodded.

“Alright, I’ll let you know when the boys and Emily get back,” Penelope told her. “Safe driving.” Hermione nodded and smiled at her friend as she left. Penelope watched as the door closed behind the brown headed woman. The blonde shook her head softly. 

“Oh, Boy Wonder, don’t let this one go…” Penelope muttered softly. 

(A/N: If you were wondering, the case mentioned in the story that Spencer has to leave to go to is 2x16 Fear and Loathing.)


	28. Chapter 28

Stripped Bare

Chapter 28

Spencer sighed in relief as he walked back into his apartment building. Today had been hell on his nerves. Seeing those girls may have inspired empathy in him, but they also inspired the urge to use dilaudid. The memory of the drug’s effects followed him into the elevator and haunted him as he pushed the button for his floor. He swallowed and prayed for the restraint he needed to just say no to the drug hiding in his drawer. 

The moment Spencer opened his apartment door, the smell of a home cooked meal hit him. As if on cue, his stomach growled. This was the kind of pampering he just wasn’t used too. His mother was never well enough to make meals; and he didn’t have the time to cook. 

“Is that you, Spencer?” Hermione called from his small kitchen area. Spencer heart skipped a little at the family-like aura his apartment suddenly admitted. 

“Yeah,” he spoke finally as he placed his case by the couch. Hermione looked up as he walked in. He took a moment to survey the room. In all reality, he was making sure that the kitchen was intact. Just because his mother rarely felt well enough to cook, it didn’t mean that she didn’t try too. 

“I hope you don’t mind me cooking. I had Garcia call me when you arrived and when you were on your way home. And I just thought that it would be good for you to have something to eat when you got in. I didn’t know if you had already eaten, but I figured that-” Spencer smiled in amusement at Hermione’s rant. The normally confident woman was nervous. It was adorable. “And I’m rambling, aren’t I?” She asked with a small laugh. Spencer nodded. 

“I don’t mind you cooking. As far as I’m concerned,” Spencer trailed off for a moment, attempting to gather up the courage to tell her what he felt, “my house is yours.” Hermione’s mouth fell open softly while a blush spread onto Spencer’s cheeks. In the next second, a blinding smile graced Hermione’s lips. Spencer rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t think you would be awake in all honesty.” 

“I got caught up in a book that I borrowed from your bookshelf,” Hermione explained. “I couldn’t put it down.”

“Which one was it?” He asked. Hermione turned down the eye that the spaghetti rested on and moved toward what looked like sautéing onions. Spencer couldn’t help but smile as she turned off both eyes as the same time. He watched her as she took filled the plates with spaghetti. 

“The Narrative of John Smith,” Hermione recalled as she scooped the onions off of the skillet and onto the spaghetti. It was now that Spencer noticed there were two plates sitting next to the stove. He frowned lightly. Did that mean that she had been waiting for him to eat anything? 

“How is it so far?” Spencer asked; his worries had distracted him from the conversation. Hermione looked over at her shoulder at him and raised her eyebrows. 

“I’ve already finished it,” she told him. Hermione’s eyebrows rose as she took in the expression in his eyes. Despite his amusement and enjoyment at being around her and talking to her, there was a haunted look in his brown eyes. “Is everything alright?” Hermione asked as she turned toward him. Spencer felt a small stab of annoyance run through him. Why was everyone asking him that? 

“I’ve just had a hard day,” Spencer mumbled as he ran a hand through his hair. Hermione frowned softly. 

“You wanna talk about it?” She asked, stepping forward slightly.

“No, I just want to forget,” he admitted. Hermione nodded in understanding and lifted one of the plates from the counter and scooted it over to him. She watched discreetly as he ate his serving. Hermione took small bites from his as she waited for his approval of her cooking. She could easily remember that Ron hadn’t liked her cooking. Spencer twirled some of the noodles and onions onto his fork and took a bit. Hermione bit into her lip as she watched him swallow. Spencer’s eyes lit up at the taste. He smiled. “This is amazing,” he told her. “What all did you put in it?” Hermione smile happily and listed off the ingredients as she ate her own meal. Spencer listened through his bites of food. Unbeknownst to them, Lavender was being discharged from the hospital. Unbeknownst to them, she was leaving Virginia. 

“Lavender,” Molly gasped as the young woman apparated into the Burrow. The blonde’s legs wobbled lightly. Fred caught her before her legs could fall out from underneath her. “What are you…Are you even okay enough to be out of the hospital?!” Lavender smiled slightly at her mother-in-law. 

“I am,” she told them. “Where’s Ron?” Fred and his mother looked at one another. The rest of the Weasleys were with Ron at the hospital. 

“Are you sure that you want to see him?” Fred asked softly. Lavender looked at him and then at the floor. She held her ring up for them to see. They looked at one another in confusion.

“When we were married,” Lavender started, “Ron had placed a curse on the ring.” Molly placed her hands over her mouth as if to stifle a silent scream. Fred looked sick to his stomach. “I couldn’t stay away from him even if I wanted too.”

“Maybe Charlie could…” 

“Maybe he could, but the fact is until then I’m Ron’s do with whatever he wants too,” Lavender said. “Now, where is he?” 

“In Saint Mungo’s…” Fred muttered. Lavender nodded. “Hang on.” Fred stopped her just as she was about to apparate. “We’ll go with you.” Lavender smiled softly and consented to her companions. Soon, Molly was taking her left elbow and Fred was taking her right. Together, they apparated to Saint Mungo’s Hospital. While Lavender walked toward Ron’s hospital room, Molly and Fred made a bee-line for the rest of the Weasley pack-mainly Charlie. 

Inside the hospital room, Ron closed his eyes in exhaustion and brought his hand up to his forehead. They had put him through the ringer in the attempt to find out a way to cure what was wrong with him. So far, they had been unsuccessful. So far, he had terrified them five times in one experiment. Ron let out a slow sigh. His eyes widened as a blonde woman came walking into the room. 

“Lavender,” he choked out. The blonde smiled softly at him. This was the man she had married. This man wasn’t the monster. 

“Hey, Ron,” Lavender muttered. “How are you doing?”

“Forget about me, damn it! How are you doing? I…beat you…” He spit those last words out as if disgusted. Lavender didn’t smile. She only stared at her husband and recalled that night. 

“I know,” Lavender answered. Ron closed his eyes. Lavender’s eyes widened at the quick movement Ron gave. His arms wrapped tightly around her hips. The metal of his bedframe bit into her midsection. As she looked down, she noticed that one of his wrists was magically chained to the railing. She found her heart aching for him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Somewhere in her mind, she told herself that falling back into him like this was a bad idea, but what choice did she have? With her wedding ring, he had bound her to him in more ways than just matrimony. As of the moment, her very life was tied to him. Sudden exhaustion coursed through her. With a small sigh, she laid her head down onto of Ron’s. 

Charlie walked toward the hospital room that his youngest brother was being kept in. His heart hurt for his brother, but at the moment he could only feel rage. Ron had used the most illegal, most dangerous magic to bind Lavender to him. Bile rose into his throat as he thought of how draining it must have been for Lavender to leave him for her safety. And what made him angrier? He knew that his brother had found the curse in one of his books. Ron had asked him to borrow one. He had said that he was interested in curse-breaking. It only strengthened Charlie’s resolve to break it. No one deserved what Lavender was going through; and he couldn’t forgive anyone that would put another person through it, even if it was his own brother. 

He peaked in through the hospital door and that sickness rose with a vengeance. Despite all he had put her through, Lavender was offering him comfort. The urge to run in there and rip her from his arms was so strong, but somehow he found the restraint. Instead, he cleared his throat softly. 

“Lavender,” he called gently, “may I speak with you?” Lavender dropped her arms from around her husband and stepped away. Charlie’s breath caught in his throat at the beaten down look on Ron’s face. Since he had arrived at the hospital, he had not seen his brother. He had been too angry. His brother’s eyes were pleading for forgiveness that Charlie, at the moment, did not have it in him to give. His vision of his younger brother was blocked when Lavender stepped in front of him and pulled the door closed. 

“Yes, Charlie?” She asked, looking up at him expectantly. 

“Do you want the curse removed?” He asked. Lavender opened her mouth to say something; Charlie held up his hand slowly. His heart tugged painfully at the way she flinched away from him. “Removing the curse could very well make your marriage to Ron void. I’m asking you, do you want that?” Lavender shifted and furrowed her eyebrows. 

“He doesn’t love me,” Lavender told him. Charlie watched as she looked down the hall. “He’s told me once before. His heart, no matter the time, will always belong to Hermione…even if she doesn’t want it.” Charlie turned his eyes away from her now. It was something all of the Weasleys knew. “When he couldn’t have her anymore, he settled with me.” Lavender’s voice cracked softly. Charlie touched her wrist gently in an effort to offer comfort. Lavender turned back to him. The steel in her eyes made him smile slightly. “I’ll still stand by him through this, but I refuse to be married to him any longer.” Charlie nodded. 

“You’re an amazing woman, Lavender,” Charlie praised her. The blonde blushed slightly. “Don’t ever forget that.” 

“Thank you…” She whispered. 

“I’ll break the curse tomorrow. Right now, you need your rest,” Charlie told her. Lavender shook her head.

“I’ve been resting for two days now,” she muttered, turning toward the door. “I’ll tell Ron-” Charlie grabbed her wrist lightly, still afraid of frightening her. Lavender turned to him. 

“That won’t be wise,” he informed her. “The doctors haven’t found any way to cure him yet. If you tell him that you want a divorce of any kind, it could send him into a violent rage.” Lavender shuddered. “I’ll be the one to tell him.” 

“Charlie, no!” Lavender exclaimed. “If it’s dangerous for me-”

“I’m a big man, Lavender,” Charlie said teasingly, “I can handle myself.” Lavender huffed. 

“Well go on then, big man,” Lavender drawled, motioning toward the door. Charlie turned to her. “I’ll be right here,” she told him. A devious smile stretched onto her lips. “You know, if the big man needs saving.” Charlie snorted and walked into the hospital room.

“Hey, Ron…” Lavender closed her eyes and leaned against the wall outside.


	29. Chapter 29

Stripped Bare

Chapter 29

Spencer Reid couldn’t help but have a slight bounce in his step as he walked into the BAU the next morning. Hermione had a large breakfast and a pot of coffee waiting on him when he awoke. Spencer smiled. After eating supper, they had stayed up watching Star Wars. She had surprised him by knowing the movies line by line. Things were going great for Spencer. It was an amazing day.   
“Well, don’t you seem like you’re in a good mood,” Derek drawled as greeting to Spencer. He turned slightly to see Derek coming down the hall with a large cup of coffee in his hand. “Have a good night with a certain consultant?” The brown headed man blushed slightly at the innuendo behind the drawl. He turned his eyes back to the front as Derek came to stand beside him. 

“Yes,” Spencer answered honestly. He couldn’t deny it. He wanted to tell the world about her. He was euphoric! 

“What’d ya’ll do?” He asked with a perverse wiggle of his eyebrows. Spencer rolled his eyes and shoved his best friend with his elbow. It didn’t have an effect. Derek barely wobbled to the side. 

“We ate dinner then watched a few Sci-Fi movies,” to keep Derek from asking about what they did after the movie (went to sleep), he began to ramble, “did you know that she likes all the same movies I do? I mean she knew the Star Wars movies line per line!” Just as he predicted, Derek held up his hand with a small chuckle.

“I’m glad you finally found a beautiful nerd, Reid, really I am…” He told him. Spencer smirked slightly in amusement. Derek shook his head as he walked away. He couldn’t help but wonder aloud, “geez, if he’s this happy by just a movie night and dinner, how will he be when they have sex…” 

“Hey,” Derek heard Penelope greet the nerd. His heart skipped slightly at the sound of the tech-analyst’s voice. He ignored it and listened. “Did Hermione tell you that she got her stitches removed yesterday?” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly. Derek’s eyebrows rose. “Or better yet, did she show you?” Penelope teased with a smirk. Spencer blushed heavily. 

“No,” he muttered, leaning away from the highly amused Penelope. “She didn’t tell me nor did she show me.” His cheeks turned even redder at the idea of her showing him. He blushed heavily and began to walk away from Penelope. Derek was chuckling when giggling Penelope met his gaze. 

“Nerd love is adorable,” she sighed as she sat down next to him on his desk. Derek laughed.

“That it is,” Derek agreed. They all glanced up when they heard Prentiss coming. When she was finally in sight, they were shocked by what they saw. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were slightly sparkling.

“Oh! Now that’s so not true!” She drawled into the speaker. “Fine, prove it!” She demanded teasingly over the line. Derek looked at Penelope and raised his eyebrows. He motioned toward her with his thumb.

“Who is she talking too?” He wondered in a low tone. Penelope shrugged.

“Probably Draco, they were pretty chummy at Hermione’s coming home party,” she informs him. Derek twisted at his waist to follow the black headed beauty. 

“Am I the only one that’s not in a relationship?” Derek questioned. Penelope laughed and patted his hand.

“No,” she laughed; she let her hand fall onto Derek’s. The large man pondered on when the relationship between the two of them change. Derek turned his hand and entwined his fingers with hers. Despite his calm exterior, his heart was racing. When had their flirtatious, comfortable friendship changed? When had those feelings and statements become serious for him? “Derek?” He looked over at the tech analyst. “Something wrong?” 

“Naw, not at all,” he stated, slipped his hand out of hers. He stood with a small stretch. Penelope watched him with a small tilt of her head. Hermione’s words kept circling through her head: “How long have you fancied Mr. Morgan?” The blonde analyst sighed and watched him walk away. 

‘Never gonna happen, girl,’ Penelope thought as she turned toward her office. 

 

Ron sat still. His eyes were fixed on the white wall across from his bed. Harry wouldn’t visit him because of the amount of anger Harry still felt toward his abuse of Hermione and Lavender. Lavender was divorcing him because of something he had done while the darkness had overtaken him. He closed his eyes. Then again, it was the darkness that brought the idea he had had to be unfaithful to Hermione into reality. It was then his life began to fall apart. 

While he sat there, the dark whispered: “Who are you kidding? I made you do nothing. These things you were already thinking about. Remember how angry Lavender made you in school? How annoyed you would be at her clingy nature, at the way she whined?” Ron tilted his head until his neck cracked and attempted to ignore it. The new nurse’s worried face entered his vision. She was smart enough to stay a good arm’s length away from him. The hospital had been smart enough to take away his wand. 

“Mr. Weasley, are you alright?” She asked warily. She pushed her brown hair out of her face. Her brown eyes were expressive and truly concerned for her patient. She had no idea just how much she reminded the struggling man of Hermione Granger despite the differences in the hair. This nurse’s hair was straight as opposed to Hermione’s wild mane of brown hair. Ron struggled to tell the difference as the darkness whispered louder. “I’m going to go get a doctor.” The nurse said as she retreated from the room. As he slipped completely into the darkness one of the doctors in charge of caring for him rushed in. 

 

Meanwhile, Lavender Brown-Weasley sat on the couch in the Burrow with Charlie across from her. She listened avidly as his smooth, deep voice informed her of what he and Bill would be doing. Mrs. Weasley hovered close, listening as well. She was so proud of her eldest son. Despite his love for dragons, after the war he retired from that work and joined Bill as a curse-breaker. When asked why the change, Charlie only stated that he could no longer work in an area where people, more often than not, encouraged violence among dragons; in other words, the workers began to fight dragons. The bosses allowed it because it drug in more money. Charlie grew enraged at the thought of it even now. 

“Will it hurt?” Lavender whispered finally. Charlie shook his head while Bill answered that it shouldn’t. Finally, she nodded and extended her hand to both of the men. “Get it off.”

“There’s one more thing, Lavender,” Charlie said. “That I feel you need to know.” Lavender tilted her head and lowered her hand to her knee. “I can’t be the one to break the marital bonds between Ron and you.” Lavender opened her mouth to ask why. “I’m a single man. If I were to break your bond with Ron, it would mean that I was staking a claim of some sort instead of simply helping you.” Despite hardly knowing Charlie, Lavender found her heart racing. After all, who wouldn’t be excited by the concept of Charlie Weasley, the rugged one? 

“Okay,” Lavender agreed. “Now, get it off.” She pressed. Charlie and Bill gave a small chuckle before starting. Lavender didn’t understand the language that they spoke next, but she did understand the change in magic currents as Bill touched his wand to the ring. Her eyes widened in slight awe as entwined golden and silver strands appeared before her hand. Slowly, Bill’s magic sliced through them. As Bill stepped away, Charlie stepped forward. He began to speak in a low but rhythmic voice. Lavender’s eyes widened still as another more strands appeared. This time one was black while the other was the color of her namesake. Instead of slicing at it, Charlie ran his wand over the black. The black receded from atop the lavender. She didn’t watch whatever happened next because, in the next moment, she found herself slipping into unconsciousness.

“Is she alright?” Molly asked, rushing toward Lavender. Charlie and Bill stepped aside before they were knocked away. 

“She’s fine, mom,” Bill told her.

“I imagine living with that curse on her caught up to her near the end,” Charlie said. Bill turned to his brother and tilted his head. Charlie’s eyes were fixed on Lavender’s sleeping form. “It takes one hell of a strong woman to deal with such a curse for as long as she did…” 

“Language, Charlie,” Molly scolded halfheartedly, but even she noticed the respect Charlie’s tone held. Bill, on the other hand, was looking at his brother with a strange expression. A sharp shout came from all three of the Weasleys as a sharp crack sounded. Bill and Charlie spun with their wands out. Molly Weasley turned around the same time as her sons. They found themselves face to face with a sheepish looking Hermione Granger. 

“Sorry to startle you. I just went by the hospital to find Lavender gone,” Hermione admitted. “I was coming to see if you had seen her and to check up on Ron.” 

“He’s in Saint Mungo’s, Hermione,” Molly said. Even with the seriousness of the topic, the three Weasleys couldn’t help but take in   
the glow that surrounded Hermione. Even the news of Ron’s commitment didn’t dull it. There could be no argument: Virginia was being good to Hermione. “After Sirius and Remus went to get him, they took a peak into his mind.” Molly closed her eyes. “It’s as Ginny said. There’s darkness in there that completely possesses him…so far they haven’t found a cure…” Hermione swallowed.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione whispered.

“There’s nothing you can do, dear…” Molly reassured despite wishing so strongly there was something the girl genius could do.


	30. Chapter 30

Stripped Bare

Chapter 30

 

After eating a light dinner and talking about the living room fire, the four Weasleys and Hermione apparated to the hospital. Hermione worried her bottom lip as she sat in between Charlie and Bill in St. Mungo’s waiting room. Ron had slipped into the darkness again. There was logically no reason for her to be here, especially if she was the trigger. In her mind, however, all of that logical thinking seemed like an excuse for her not to see Ron. Hermione glanced down at her hands that were nervously playing in her lap. 

____________

Ron’s arm was moving to strike her. Derek intercepted it quickly and bent Ron’s arm behind his back. There was a sickening pop as Derek applied pressure to Ron’s shoulder blades with his knee. Ron screamed out in anger and pain.

____________

Hermione’s eyes slid closed as she leaned her head back against her chair. She missed Charlie’s and Bill’s worried looks. She wasn’t ready.

__________

She waited with tense shoulders for him to move. Her eyes widened slightly as red flashed through his blue eyes for a moment. “Ron?” She mumbled, slightly frightened. 

“Get away from me, Mudblood,” Ron hissed.

___________

Hermione swallowed back her pain at the memory. Ron had defended her against that word all of her life and in a fit of anger, he had called her it. Despite having said many times that it was just a word, hearing it from him hurt. She wasn’t ready. 

As Hermione fought her own internal battle on being there, Charlie studied his “sister.” Her eyes were filled with pain and self-hatred. He sighed audibly. His little brother had done a number on this beautiful woman. To fight the anger he felt and to offer her some comfort, Charlie let his hand fall over hers and squeezed. She turned her brown eyes to him.

“Go on home, Hermione,” Charlie told her quietly. “We’ll call you if anything changes.” 

“You’re sure?” Hermione clarified as she rose to her feet. Both of the men smiled at her. As she looked at the two Weasley brothers, she couldn’t help but wonder if she ever would be ready to face Ron again. She cast a look toward the wing they housed him in. If she never would be, would it not be best to bite the bullet now? 

“Go on,” Bill stressed, ending her thought pattern. The two men would not budge on the matter. Hermione sighed softly and nodded. With a sharp crack, she was gone. Charlie couldn’t help but snort as the young woman behind the reception desk jumped and dropped her folders. Bill elbowed his brother in the side, but did not scold him.

 

Hermione apparated inside Spencer’s apartment just as his front door opened. She calmed her heavily beating heart and pulled a smile onto her lips as Spencer entered the apartment. She easily flicked the note she had left him into the garbage can. She would tell him, but not right now.

“How was your day?” Hermione asked. Spencer smiled easily, but did nothing to hide the suspicion in his gaze. Her carotid artery was racing. It was a clear indicator that something was wrong. 

“Fine,” Spencer said warily as he closed the door. “How was your day?” He watched her closely as he asked her this question. He didn’t expect her to lie. He did trust her. 

“Lavender discharged herself from the hospital,” Hermione sighed as she sat down. Spencer took a seat beside her and waited for her to talk again. “So, I went to the Weasleys to find her.” Spencer tensed.

“Was Ron there?” He asked as his eyes studied his girlfriend’s form for any signs of injury. Hermione shook her head no. He fought back a sigh of relief. Something was bothering her still. 

“He was in St. Mungo’s psychiatric ward. He slipped back into violent behavior today,” Spencer pulled her hand from her lap and entwined their fingers. Hermione looked over at him. 

“What caused it?” He asked. 

“They are assuming Lavender,” Spencer tilted his head in confusion. Hermione smiled slightly at the adorable picture he made before continuing, “She divorced him.” Spencer smiled at the pride for her friend’s decision. Then a curious thought came to him. 

“Is divorce really that easy in the magical world?” He asked. Hermione nodded.

“The magical ceremony is just a touching of the bride’s and groom’s wands. Their magic is bound from there. So all it really takes to end their marriage is someone willing to erase the other person from the other’s magic. It’s a lot harder than it sounds, but there are people out there who can do it,” Hermione explained, leaving out the part where Ron had put a curse on Lavender and his martial bond. 

“Will your magic do that to me if we ever marry?” Spencer asked. Hermione’s heart skipped a small beat, but she understood that it was hypothetical. Spencer was not planning on asking her to marry him anytime soon. Still, Hermione had hoped to hold this conversation off for a little while longer.

“Bind you to me?” Hermione asked. Spencer nodded. Hermione swallowed and nodded. “In a sense it will, but not until we consummate the marriage.” Spencer blushed lightly and cleared his throat. 

“So…if we have sex,” he started, “your magic would bind me to you?” Hermione nodded. A thought occurred to Spencer: “When were you planning on telling me?” 

“When I was certain,” Hermione stated nervously. Spencer blinked. 

“Certain about what?” He questioned. 

“Certain that you wanted me,” Hermione muttered lowly, but Spencer still heard it all the same. His eyes widened. 

“How could you think I wouldn’t?” He asked incredulously. Hermione swallowed. He would have to know. 

“I was in an abusive relationship,” Hermione whispered. Spencer tensed. When Derek had told him that he had seen Ron draw back to hit Hermione, he had thought that maybe she had been but this just made that assumption a reality. Spencer’s hand tightened around Hermione’s. “At first, it wasn’t so much as physical as it was as emotional. Ron never hit me until the day I came to take my things back.” 

“That still doesn’t make it okay,” Spencer stated as he attempted to hold back the currents of anger rushing through him. Spencer wasn’t a violent person, but anger made him irrational. Anger made him want to go into St. Mungo’s and give Ronald Weasley more than just a piece of his mind. It made him want to be violent. 

“I know, but it did numbers on my self-esteem,” Hermione informed him. Her thumb ran over Spencer’s knuckles. “We argued a lot even before we got together.” Hermione continued. The flood gates were open now. “It was always over simple things. I suppose it should have been a red flag for me, but I was so young then and thought it was harmless, that he was harmless.” Spencer squeezed her hand softly. She had told him that the two of them had argued more than a normal couple should have, but she hadn’t told him about his abuse of her. 

“Hermione,” he said. She looked over at him. Spencer leaned forward slowly and kissed her lips. When he pulled away, Hermione’s mouth was hanging open softly. Her eyes slightly wide in surprise at his move; he understood. Normally, she was the one that had to make the move for physical contact between them. “What he did was atrocious. You are a beautiful,” he kissed her lips once more, “strong,” again, “amazing,” again, “woman.” Hermione smiled softly as he kissed her yet again. Spencer rested his forehead on hers. “Don’t let anything or anyone tell you otherwise.” A small blush came to Spencer’s cheeks. “And I will spend the rest of my life telling you that….” Hermione’s eyes widened before a happy smile came onto her face. 

“You, Mr. Reid, are very eloquent,” Hermione declared softly against his lips. Spencer smiled in amusement, but returned her kiss. 

“Only with you,” he vowed. From that point on, they simply sat cuddling, but the talk of sex and “rest of my life” made Spencer begin thinking more seriously about the woman in his arms. Would it be too soon to ask her to move in or to suggest he move in with her? His mind was racing on these questions. They had only known one another for a few months, but-as crazy as it sounded-it seemed like a lifetime had passed. 

“What are thinking so hard about?” Hermione, who had her head lying on his chest, asked him suddenly. Spencer looked down at her. 

“You,” Spencer answered honestly. As she stared curiously up at him, Spencer pondered of if he should just bite the bullet. Hermione smiled charmingly up at him.

“What about me?” She asked teasingly as she propped up on her elbow. Spencer looked searchingly into her eyes. What he found would forever take his breath away: love, trust, adoration, and respect. Right so biting the bullet it is.

“What do you think about me moving in with you or you moving in with me?”


	31. Chapter 31

****

               “What?” Hermione couldn’t help but choke. She had heard him, but the offer surprised her. True, they were practically living together already, but she hadn’t expected him to ask so soon. Spencer rubbed the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t around her waist.

               “If you don’t want to, I” he started. Hermione placed her hand over his mouth. His eyes widened slightly in shock. Hermione smiled softly.

               “I never said that I didn’t want to. I’m just surprised is all,” Hermione stated. “I suppose you’ll just have to move in with me,” Hermione told him. Spencer nodded. She slowly took her hand away from his mouth.

               “You don’t think we’re rushing it?” Spencer asked. Hermione smiled.

               “Well, in a way, but you like knowing I’m safe and I like knowing you’re safe. The best way to ensure that we know-when we’re home, of course-is to live together instead of two blocks or so away from one another.” Spencer nodded. “We’re going to have to plan the move around both of our unpredictable schedules. Well, I could do it all by magic, but I need you to tell me what belongs to the building and what doesn’t.” A small amused smile curved his lips as she planned/rambled. “What?” She stopped.

               “You’re adorable,” he stated easily as he leaned in to kiss her. The discussion of their moving in together could be continued at another time. He suppressed a smile as he felt her melt into him. It was very empowering to know that he had this ability.

 

* * *

 

               Ron jerked awake in a panic. The pain in his body became known quickly. A small groan built up in his throat. Then, he heard the doctor and the nurse that were in charge of him. They were talking outside of his cracked door.

               “We’ve been at this for days, doctor,” the nurse said solemnly. “He’s not getting any better.”

               “I’m aware of that, Shirley,” the doctor told her, “I just want to try one more time.”

               “We can’t keep putting his body through this!” Shirley argued.

               “And what would you have me do? Put a war hero into the psychiatric ward? Is that what you want?” The doctor returned.

               “No. What I want is to not kill him with these tests!” Shirley defended. Ron had heard enough. He closed his eyes and sank back against the pillows. The fact that he wasn’t improving kept circling in his mind. If he didn’t improve, he would have to spend the rest of his life in the psychiatric ward of the hospital.

               “I’m not crazy,” he whispered painfully. “I’m just…”

               “Dealing with a split personality?”

               “Harry!” Ron exclaimed as he glanced over. Shirley and the doctor were apparently star struck by Harry Potter’s appearance because they stood in the now open doorway, gawking. Harry smiled at his friend.

               “Hey, Ron,” he stated. As Ron looked at one of his best friends, he felt the weight of the years and what he had done settle over him. He sagged completely onto the pillow and looked almost bashfully at his friend.

               “It’s beyond repairable, isn’t it?” He asked, speaking of Harry, his, and Hermione’s friendship. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and shook his head slightly.

               “After all we’ve been through?” He asked, raising a black eyebrow. “I don’t think so. The Weasleys said that Hermione visited them yesterday.” Ron’s face fell slightly. She hadn’t come to see him. “She’s just not ready to see you yet.”

               “I get that,” he whispered.

               “What I’m trying to point out to you is that if she came with the intent to see you, which she did, then it’s not beyond repair. There’s still a chance so don’t give up hope yet.” Ron gave a small chuckle at his best friend.

               “Always so hopeful,” Ron said with a small shake of his head. “They’re saying that I’m not getting any better, Harry…” He whispered.

               “Well, I just gave them an incentive to work harder,” Harry told him, looking over at the doctor with a slight glare. “The problem isn’t in your body, Ron; it’s in your mind. If we could get Sirius in here, I’m sure that we could get the other you out.”

               “You really think so?”

               “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” Harry stood with a wide stretch and glared slightly at his friend, “but don’t think you’re off the hook about Lavender or Hermione just yet.” Ron swallowed at the venom in his friend’s voice. “That ‘other you’ may have done it, but you had been thinking about it.” Harry leaned closer to his friend and looked him in the eye. “Apparently, your brothers and I need to teach you a lesson on that.” Ron paled drastically. Harry smiled suddenly, “but not today. When you’re better.” He patted Ron on the head and turned toward the door. Ron sank against the pillows again.

               “Bloody hell….” He whispered as Harry walked out. Despite the threat that Harry had left him, his best friend also let him with hope that he would improve. The redhead ignored the disagreement that came from the voice inside of his head. He would get better. He would make it up to Hermione and Lavender for what he had done.

 

* * *

 

               Hermione could feel Spencer’s arms around her waist as she came into consciousness. She smiled softly up at his sleeping face. She smiled wider and fought off a sudden giggle. Slowly, she slipped from his arms and from his bed. She padded from the bedroom and into the bathroom.

               Inside the room, Spencer jerked awake. He flinched at the stickiness of his clothing. The nightmares from his night with Tobias Hankel hadn’t disappeared. He still dreamed of those horrible moments in his sleep. Still in the clutches of sleep, his heart pounded in his throat as he realized Hermione was no longer in his bed. He began to look around for her desperately and then he heard the sound of his shower. With a relieved sigh, he collapsed back onto his bed. Spencer threw an arm over his eyes and sighed.

               For the past few weeks they had been all but living together, Spencer had been having strong fear that he was still with Tobias Hankel and all of this was a dream. When he would wake up without Hermione, he would have a strike of panic that Tobias Hankel had her. He stood from the bed slowly and walked from the bedroom and into the kitchen. He would have waited for Hermione to come out of the bathroom, but the call of coffee was louder at the moment. Sleep deprivation was finally taking its toll.

               Hermione stepped from the bathroom. She was busy rubbing a towel back and forth over her hair and glancing around the room for her brush. That being said, she wasn’t paying full attention to her surroundings. She managed to catch the nightstand on Spencer’s side of the bed with her foot. A sharp curse escaped her lips at the pain then at the falling nightstand. She caught the nightstand and the table top’s contents, but couldn’t catch the drawer as it came completely from its slot.

               Inside the kitchen, Spencer dropped his coffee onto the tabletop and ran toward his bedroom at the noise. The first thing he noticed was the small splatters of blood on the floor. Rationality overrode panic. It was a small amount of blood, nothing serious. She was fine; still he looked her up and down for injuries. Her pinky toe nail was missing.

               “Spencer?” He heard. He looked up at her face. In her hands were the vials he had hoped she would never find. “What is this?” She asked as she stood slowly from the floor. He was aware that it was a rhetorical question. She knew exactly what it was. The look in her eyes said so. “Have you been…shooting this up?” She demanded. Spencer shook his head.

               “No,” Spencer told her. “I haven’t…not since Tobias Hankel forced it into me.” His tone was calm and honest, Hermione could see it. The honesty and sincerity in his eyes caused the anger she had felt stilled instantly. For a moment, Spencer stood in tension, waiting.

               “I believe you,” Hermione said as she turned toward the bathroom again. Spencer stood where she left him. His body suddenly became slack with relief. Hermione wasn’t going to leave him for being weak. It was until he heard the breaking of glass that he worried.

               “Hermione?” He called softly as he stepped into the bathroom. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed the vials in his tub, shattered and slowly sliding toward his drain. The glass wouldn’t go down the drain because of the net in the drain, but the drug itself would. He looked back toward his girlfriend. She turned to him.

               “Removing the temptation,” she told him as she turned. He believed that it was also her way of taking her anger out on Tobias for what he had done. Spencer swallowed. Despite her believing him, he was still worried that she was angry. Hermione stepped forward and placed her hands on his cheeks. “I’m not mad, Spencer.” She promised. “You’ve been so strong to fight it for this long.” She encouraged.

               “It’s because of you,” he whispered, folding his hands around her wrists gently. He kissed the inside of her palm. Hermione watched him with tender, loving eyes. Despite having never heard her say those words, Spencer knew that she loved him and he would wait patiently for her to be ready to say them. “I have the feeling that if it weren’t for you, I would have succumbed completely to dilaudid. You’re my strength,” he admitted quietly. Hermione smiled.

               “And you are mine,” she admitted. They shared a small smile. Spencer leaned forward and kissed her lips. Hermione smiled and kissed him back. The small kisses were quickly becoming heated. Hermione’s hands slipped underneath Spencer’s T-shirt. A small shiver went through him. Slowly, tentatively he slipped his hands underneath the T-shirt that Hermione wore. Hermione shuddered as his fingertips caressed the skin of her back. Slowly, the gentle touches turned into something more heated as the dam that held back their built up sexual tension burst. Hermione’s shirt ended up in the tub along with the broken glass. A small gasp escaped her lips as Spencer’s lips left hers and trailed down her neck. Hermione shuddered as he backed her from the bathroom gently and into the bedroom. Hermione pulled his shirt over his head as her legs touched the side of the bed. They stood for a moment breathing heavily. They could feel the shifting in their relationship. If they went through with this, so much could change.

               “Is this okay?” Spencer asked breathlessly, unsure if now was an okay time to get into this.

“I trust you,” she told him in a low confessing tone. “And I trust that you don’t want just sex from me.” Spencer began to shake his head slightly.

“I don’t care about that,” he told her. “I could live without sex for the rest of my life. I’ve never had it. I’ve never even come close until now.” He admitted quietly. Hermione smiled softly. “If I could have you,” he whispered, “for the rest of my life, then…I would be fine without sex…” Hermione’s eyes had filled up with tears as she listened to him.

“You feel that strongly about me?” Hermione asked; her tone broke on certain words. Spencer smiled gently and nodded. Hermione gasped quietly at the admission. Spencer’s eyes fell away from hers.

“Somewhere between studying over cases and our own personal jokes, I fell in love with you.” Hermione’s heart was pounded heavily. Spencer swallowed softly. “Please say something. Even if you don’t love me, I just need to…”

“I do,” Hermione said quietly. Spencer’s sentence died in his throat. “Love you,” she whispered. “I love you.” She laughed as if finally realizing it. Spencer smiled softly. Excitement and happiness bubbled in his brown eyes.

“Yeah?” He asked, looking deeply into hers. She nodded with a brilliant smile.

“I love you,” she stated again. Spencer let out a small shocked, yet relieved laugh. He swept Hermione into his arms. His lips pressed against hers again and again. Hermione laughed against them as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Hermione began to reply to his kisses in kind. Slowly, she sank back onto the bed and pulled Spencer down with her. Easily, they picked up where they had left off.   

 

 

****

 

 


	32. Chapter 32

Hermione jerked awake as the hold of a nightmare left her. She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and thanked Merlin for that it was Spencer’s day off. It was one in the afternoon. Hermione glanced over at the man lying beside her. He looked so peaceful lying there. Hermione reached up slowly and brushed a lock of hair off of his face. Hermione smiled in amusement at the adorable picture he made. His legs were wrapped in the dark blue sheet underneath him. The cover he had shoved off was gathered near her body. Hermione slid her hand down onto his shoulder before letting it fall down to the bed beside it. She lay there for a moment just looking at him. He was such a beautiful man. Hermione sighed in a slight suffering tone as she slid her legs out from underneath the covers. She attempted to get off of the bed quietly and without moving it. A small scream escaped her lips as an arm wrapped around her waist.

“Where are you going?” He asked sleepily. Hermione shivered at the husky tone. The bed shifted as he sat up. “You weren’t leaving, were you?” Hermione’s heart tugged slightly at the tone. He was afraid that she was going to leave him. She shook her head.

“Just getting up,” Hermione told him quietly.

“Oh,” he murmured. Hermione’s heart went to him at that moment. She wrapped her hand around his wrist and squeezed. Hermione swallowed slightly and turned into his arm. Spencer loosened his arm and looked at her in confusion.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Hermione promised him. “I will never leave your bed,” her cheeks turned red instantly. “You,” she coughed. Spencer smiled. Amusement twinkled behind his brown eyes.

“Do you intend to spend more nights in my bed?” He asked. Hermione laughed and smacked his chest gently. He caught her wrist in his hand and kissed the inside of it.

“As long as you want me,” Hermione told him. Spencer smiled and sat up. He pressed his lips to hers.

“I don’t see it changing,” he told her as he fell back onto his elbows. Hermione smiled and hugged him. “I thought you were getting up?” He questioned as he laid back and wrapped his arms around her.

“I changed my mind,” Hermione muttered. Spencer laughed gently and pulled her closer to him.

 

* * *

 

               Far away in England, Presley listened to the Deatheaters surrounding him. He studied the faces of those around him. Sting had yet to enter the room.

               “Who does he think he is?” One of the older members grumbled loudly. Other members seemed to hum in agreement. A small jolt of satisfaction ran through him as Sting entered the room. His beady brown eyes focused on the older member that had spoken. Presley raised his eyebrows as Sting turned his attention away from the man. He wasn’t even trying to instill fear into the Deatheaters. Presley had learned that fear kept this group loyal to their leader. Fear is what bound them to Voldemort and then to Lucius.    

“Fellow Deatheaters, I bring good news,” Sting said proudly, signaling the beginning of the meeting. Presley pulled himself out of his thoughts on Sting’s incompetence.  “One of the blood traitors is hospitalized,” Sting cooed happily. It was another distraction for the Order. Sting’s arrogance grew with the news just as Presley had wanted. He listened closely after the announcement. No one planned to attack while the Burrow was weakened, while members were missing. No one planned to infiltrate and look for information on how to bring them down. Presley couldn’t help but be disappointed by the “diabolical” men and women surrounding him. He had hoped for more of a fight out of this group, but still he would not underestimate them.

The meeting slowly came to a close. Presley stood and made a show of apparating out of the house before popping up again behind Sting. The older man jumped slightly at the pop behind him.

“What’s with the dramatics, Owens?” He demanded. Presley smiled.

“If it were known that I stayed behind, the others would suspect something more frightening going on…” Presley fell silent and waited for Sting’s curiosity to begin. As usual, Sting did not disappoint. He turned his full attention toward him and crossed his arms over his chest. The expression on his face clearly said he was waiting. “For instance, they may think that you plan on picking them off one by one.”

“What are you going on about?” Sting demanded.

“I’ve been listening, Sting. Some of the other members are growing restless with your lead,” Presley leaned against the archway of Pansy’s spacious dining room. He watched as Sting seemed to recall the older member’s words from before the meeting. “They believe that you are taking too long to make a move.” Sting narrowed his eyebrows. “That you are afraid.”

“And what do you think?” He drawled, stepping forward. Presley fought the urge to raise his eyebrows at the move. 

“I believe you are bidding your time. Making sure that this next move will be a success,” Presley said, stroking his ego discreetly. Sting nodded.   

               “Damn straight,” Sting growled. Presley knew that since Sting had heard the older member’s words his rage had been building. He planned to play his ego and wounded pride against him.

“If you would like, I can make your problems disappear,” Presley hinted. Sting smiled at Presley and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry yourself, Owens. I’ll take care of it.” Presley smiled. “After tonight, no one will question me ever again.” A small cold look flashed through the older man’s eyes; he continued to explain, “I’ll make their great fears a reality.” Presley nodded. “Go on home, Owens.” Presley nodded and apparated home. The moment his feet touched his grey carpet, he was gone again. The Burrow’s kitchen greeted him cheerfully. Sirius smiled at the sight of his son.

“What’s up, Presley?” Sirius asked.

“I need you to go to the hospital and warn Molly and the others that the Deatheaters may make a move against us,” Sirius moved to stand. “Don’t panic them. Make it clear that it is a possibility. Sting could be going after his own men, but I refuse to underestimate him. When I’m finished here, I’ll track his movements.” Presley stated. Sirius nodded, understanding.

“I’m proud of you, son,” he said awkwardly, uncertain of how his praise would be received. Presley smiled back at him. Sirius smiled and then apparated to the hospital. Presley began to reinforce the shields that surrounded the home.  

 

* * *

 

Hermione propped up onto her elbows as a small tingle of bad feeling shuttered down her spine. Something was about to happen in the Wizarding World. As she slipped from the bed, she could vaguely hear the creak of Spencer’s oven opening and closing. The smell of pizza floated into her senses as she dug out her cell phone. With a small sigh, she dialed Harry’s number.

_“Hey, Hermione,”_ he greeted. Hermione smiled slightly. He was the only one that ever kept his phone on and actually used it. The others were simply too confused by it. 

“What’s going on, Harry?” She asked. Harry chuckled over the phone line, but it didn’t sound happy. It sounded bitter and tense.

_“Nothing gets past your radar,”_ he teased, _“Presley thinks that Sting is about to make his move.”_ Hermione scowled slightly as she pulled on her jeans.

“Do I need to come?” Hermione asked.

_“No, not yet,”_ Harry reassured. _“Presley thinks that he’s going to go after some of the higher ups in the Deatheater circle, but Presley doesn’t want to underestimate him.”_ Hermione nibbled her bottom lip. She trusted Presley’s judgment, but she was still wary. _“I will let you know the moment we get news.”_ Harry attempted. Hermione sighed.

“There really isn’t anything I can do, is there?” Hermione asked. Harry chuckled.

_“No. We’re basically sitting ducks right now,”_ Harry returned. She could hear the aggravation in his voice.

“Waiting never was your strong point,” Hermione stated with a smile. She glanced up as Spencer appeared in the bedroom doorway. She smiled at him. “Keep me informed, Harry. I gotta go.”

_“You got it. Bye, Mione,”_ he dismissed. Hermione closed her cell phone and tucked it back into her bag. Spencer tilted his head.

“What was all that about?” He asked. Hermione relayed the information to him as they walked toward the kitchen. Spencer frowned softly when she finished. “Does this mean you’ll have to leave?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” Hermione sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. Spencer slipped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. Hermione leaned back into his embrace with a small sigh.

“You want some pizza?” He asked suddenly. Hermione snorted softly at the question, but nodded. They both understood that in a moment like this there was nothing either of them could say.

“Hey,” Hermione called softly. Spencer turned back toward her. She leaned forward and pecked his lips quickly. She giggled slightly at the smile that curved his lips as she pulled away. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Spencer asked, truly perplexed. Spencer pulled back her chair as if by default. Hermione smiled softly and sat down. She glanced over her shoulder at him as he sat next to her.

“For being here,” Hermione whispered. Spencer smiled.

“Always.”  

        

                

                


	33. Chapter 33

               The Weasley home was in a state of tension. All of the Weasleys that had been at the hospital had returned to the Burrow almost instantly at the news. Molly attempted to smother her guilt at leaving her son by thinking of the many capable witches and wizards that stationed at the hospital. He would be well protected. Molly shook her head and looked around the room. Harry sat in an armchair with Ginny on his lap. Fred and George sat on the couch. Lavender stood inside the living room with Charlie behind her. Her entire figure screamed her nerves. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. She was aware of Charlie rubbing his hands up and down her shoulders in an effort to loosen her muscles.

               “How about some hot chocolate, Lavender?” Charlie asked quietly. Lavender glanced over him and gave him a shaky smile; he read it in her eyes. She would do anything to get out of this too silent, too tense room. He gave her a tiny smile and steered her toward the kitchen. Charlie bit into his lip slightly as he thought of a way to break the silence that seemed to fall over them. “Why didn’t you ever tell us that things weren’t going well with Ron?” Charlie flinched as the question slipped from his lips. Lavender glanced up at him.

               “Would it have mattered?” She asked. Lavender caught the way Charlie’s body tensed at her question. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on the way he moved. His hands were steady as he poured his coffee and set her water on boil.

               “We could have taken off the curse sooner…” Charlie said. His tone was strained with suppressed outrage. “It wouldn’t have gotten to the point that you felt your only option was Hermione…” Charlie turned to her then. In his hand sat an aged yellow coffee cup. Lavender was fixated for a moment on the steam as it rose to caress the side of his strong jaw. “We would have done something, Lavender…”

               “I tore apart their relationship,” Lavender stated. Charlie did not have to question whose relationship she spoke of. It was something that they attempted not to talk about. “Why is it you all seem to have forgotten that?”

               “Because they wouldn’t have worked out anyway,” Charlie stated as he lowered his coffee cup from his lips. That was another truth so many of the Weasleys attempted to ignore, but Charlie had seen it. “They were too different. Ron never seemed to be able to accept her for who she was…” Charlie shook his head. “But-”

               “The threat’s passed,” Presley announced as he reappeared. Charlie and Lavender glanced at one another. They hadn’t even heard him apparate into the house. Vaguely, Charlie could hear Mad Eyed Moody hollering “Constant Vigilance!” in the back of his mind. “Sting attacked some of the higher ups in the Death Eater circle. It won’t be long before they all turn on him.”

               “Good,” Molly couldn’t help but breathe. “We won’t have to worry about him then?”

               “I didn’t say that, Molly,” Presley reminded. Sometimes he hated himself for what Hermione called his “most endearing” trait. He was brutally honest with his family and friends. Over the time he had spent with Sirius, he now knew where he got it from. “This could backfire. Instead of being enraged, they could be afraid…After all, that lot was never known for courage…” Molly let out a very long, aggravated sigh as she plopped down into the red armchair.

               “So we’re back to square one?” She asked. Her exhaustion was clear in her tone. Molly just wanted all of this to be over with already. The war had ended years ago, but they still had to clean up the mess. She glanced up briefly as Arthur squeezed her shoulder gently.

               “Not necessarily,” Presley argued. “Sting’s now going to be suspicious of every man in his circle. He’ll be looking closer for signs of discontent.” The Weasleys exchanged a worried look. Sirius frowned deeply. Presley couldn’t help but smile grimly as he watched the family figure it out. If Sting was more suspicious and searching for faults, Presley’s life just became a little more endangered. “I’ll be fine.” He reassured everyone. “Sting trusts me.”

               Ginny glanced worriedly over her shoulder at her husband. Harry’s eyes seemed to see through Presley. He was thinking of the last double agent the Order had. Voldemort had trusted Snape as well. She squeezed her husband’s hand. Harry glanced toward her and smiled halfheartedly.

               “I’m going to go call Hermione,” Harry whispered to her as he slipped his hand out from underneath hers. Ginny nodded and followed him with her eyes as he walked out of the room. Vaguely, she wondered if any of them would ever fully heal from the war. As she looked around the room at the tense faces, she realized that they probably wouldn’t. The wounds were too deep.

 

* * *

 

               Hermione sagged against Spencer in relief as she closed her phone. Spencer’s fingertips stilled their dance with her hair at the action. He pressed a small kiss to her shoulder and balanced his chin on her shoulder.

               “Everything okay?” He asked. Hermione nodded and leaned forward to set her phone on the coffee table. The red blanket they had wrapped around them fell forward slightly as she leaned forward. Spencer tucked it closer around her as she settled back against his chest. She smiled softly over at him and squeezed his hand in thanks. Spencer could read the relief and conflict in her eyes.

               “The threat’s passed. He attacked some of his higher ups in the circle,” Hermione informed him.

                “But it bothers you because there has been a loss of life,” Spencer stated evenly. She nodded slightly. He understood completely. It was the same emotion he felt when his team had to kill an UNSUB. Despite the men being responsible for the death of many, he couldn’t find it in himself to be proud that it had been his hand or the hands of his team to kill him. The only consolation was that those men wouldn’t harm anyone else and that those families got closure. So, he didn’t wait for Hermione’s reply. He simply tightened his arms around her and kissed her hair.


	34. Chapter 34

               Hermione gave a small groan of annoyance as the alarm clock interrupted her sleep. Spencer hit the off button just as her brown eyes opened.

               “Work time?” Hermione mumbled as she threw her arm over the top of her pillow. Spencer smiled. Before she could react, he darted forward and kissed her on the forehead.

               “Work time,” he mumbled as he leaned up. Hermione propped up on her elbows and watched him gather his underwear, pants, and shirt for the day. The muscles in his back attracted her attention. She was transfixed by the tightening and loosening of his shoulders as he took the shirt he wanted for the day out of the closet. Her eyes roamed lower down his back. It was a nice lower back. She smiled. 

               “I could get used to this,” Hermione stated sleepily as she watched him slip his boxers over his naked bottom. He blushed and glared slightly at her. The heat in her gaze however made him look away quickly. Despite the want he had to crawl back into the bed with her, he focused on getting dressed. He couldn’t be late for work. 

               “Shut up,” he grumbled lightly. Hermione smiled and slipped out from underneath the cover. The cold air caused goosebumps to rise on her naked flesh. Spencer’s eyes instantly fixed on her. She delighted in the way his eyes followed her as she moved toward the bathroom. Pride swelled within her. The khaki pants he had been pulling up had frozen on his thighs. She could make him forget everything he was doing. The power she had over him was so exhilarating. “I could too…” He mumbled once she had walked through into the bathroom. He pulled his jeans the rest of the way up, zipped them, and pushed the button through the hole. Hermione’s laughter filled the small area between the bathroom and his room. Spencer smiled softly at the sound as he slipped his button up over his shoulders. Hermione entered his room again just as he had begun to button up his shirt.

               Hermione had to admit she loved the image he was giving her. He looked up at her as he pushed each button through their corresponding holes.

               “What?” He asked. Hermione just shook her head and moved closer to him. Spencer swallowed. His girlfriend was dressed in nothing but the black dress robe he had hung on his bathroom door. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Spencer’s hands fell from the third button to the top and placed his hands onto her hips. He closed his eyes and returned her kiss. Hermione smiled as she lowered herself down onto her heels.

               “I love you,” she told him. Spencer swooped down and pecked her on the lips.

               “I love you too.” He then sank back down on the bed and put his shoes on. Hermione leaned against the dresser as she watched him. Vaguely, she wondered just what she was going to do today while he was at work. She had a list of things in her head that she should do: visit Ron, see how Lavender was doing…All of it revolved around England. Her old home…that she was still very much a part of. She closed her eyes. The man she loved was here in America. Logically, she knew that she couldn’t keep jumping back and forth between the two places. What if Spencer and his team needed her here and she was there? How much suspicion would they have to battle? She knew that she would eventually have to choose.

               “I’ll think about that tomorrow…” She whispered. Spencer looked up from tying his shoe. His brown eyes were wide and curious.

               “Think about what?” He questioned. Hermione blinked and looked away from his shoe and into his eyes. She bit into her bottom lip. She didn’t want to tell him just what was on her mind right now. He would more than likely make himself late for work trying to reassure her. But she couldn’t not tell him; he would worry himself crazy at work about it.

               “I’m eventually going to have to choose between here and England,” Hermione admitted, looking away from him. She heard the springs squeak as he stood. “I can’t keep bouncing back and forth…your team will eventually get suspicious…”

               “You…don’t plan on telling the team?” He questioned. Hermione could see him out of her peripherals. He was standing just inches from her. She looked over at him.

               “Spencer…” She sighed. He wrapped his hands around her forearms gently and tilted himself at the waist to face her.

               “I’m not pushing you,” he reassured her softly. Hermione looked into his eyes; she studied him. His emotions were like an open book to her. What he wasn’t saying jumped out at her. He was uncomfortable keeping such a large secret from his team, but he was waiting for her to say it was alright for them to know.

               “Just…give me time to think about it, okay?” Hermione asked as she wrapped her hands around his wrists. Spencer nodded and slipped his hands from over her forearms. He grabbed his hands in his grip softly. He smiled softly.

               “Okay,” he whispered. He leaned forward and kissed her softly. She closed her eyes and fell into him. He pulled away too soon. A small whine escaped the back of Hermione’s throat. Spencer couldn’t help but smile. “I gotta go,” he said. Hermione nodded.

               “Be careful and call me if you need help,” she told him. He nodded and smiled quickly at her as he gathered up his things.

               “I will,” he promised.      

**X**

Ron perked up slightly as Harry came into the hospital room. He propped up on his elbows despite the exhaustion in his bones. Fighting the whispers was like fighting a real person. It was steadily taking more and more of him to come out of his black outs. That news scared him more than he could comprehend. What if the next black out trapped him? He clenched his jaw. There wasn’t any need thinking of that. He had already demanded that no one see him if that happened. It would be too painful for his friends and family.

               “What happened yesterday?” Ron asked. Harry frowned slightly at the slight croak in his friend’s voice. The emerald eyed man picked up the glass of water that some nurse had foolishly put out of the tired man’s reach as he approached him. Ron smiled weakly in thanks as he lifted it to his lips. Harry waited until his friend was finished drinking to tell him the news. “What?!” Harry knew that his friend would have screamed it out if it weren’t for the soreness in his throat. “Man,” he croaked as he dropped from his elbows, “Presley’s got that man eating out of his hands…” Harry chuckled. A comfortable silence fell over them. Harry was aware of Ron’s eyes flicking toward him frequently.

               “What is it?” He asked. Ron looked away from his friend and sighed.

               “Have you seen Hermione?” Harry looked at his friend. He knew what he was asking. _Will she come see me?_ Harry drug a hand through his unruly black locks and sighed.

               “She’s just not ready yet, Ron…” Harry muttered. Ron bit back the urge to demand why. He knew. He had perfect clarity despite the term black out. He recalled everything he did. It only made him hate himself more. Maybe…this was his punishment. The silence that fell over them now wasn’t comfortable. It was tense and tight with things they held back. The scrapping of Harry’s chair broke it. “I’ve got to get back home to Ginny,” Harry excused himself. Ron glanced at his friend.

               “Yeah, yeah, send her my love,” Ron said. Harry glanced back at his friend when he reached the door. He knew that Ron didn’t just mean Ginny. He bit into his lip. Despite his reckless decision to cheat on Hermione, Harry knew that Ron would more than likely never stop loving her. In a way, it was his punishment.

               “I will, Ron,” he sighed before walking down the white hallway. Ron leaned his head back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Right now, his friendship with Harry was strained. He expected no less. Now that he had proper medical help instead of a fifth of Jack Daniels, he could see just how horrible his previous behavior had been. That man wasn’t Ron Weasley. He wasn’t Harry Potter’s best friend or Hermione Granger’s boyfriend. He had been a monster…and it had cost him Hermione. He closed his eyes. A timid knock caused his eyes to open again. A nurse in light pink scrubs holding a small cup of pills stood at his doorway. He raised his head up.

               “How are you doing today, Mrs. Weasley?” The young blonde nurse asked.

               “Feel like I got smacked around by a giant troll,” Ron muttered as he took the small cup from her hands. She giggled quietly.

               “I would imagine so,” she said. Ron looked over at her as he tipped the cup of pills into his mouth. She handed him the glass of water that Harry had pushed closer to his side.

               “Thanks,” he muttered around the mouthful of pink, awful tasting pills. She smiled softly at him. _‘Something about her reminds me of Luna…_ ’ He thought as he swallowed down the pills. He frowned and shook his head as if the taste would fly out. The nurse laughed.

               “I know it’s tastes horrible now, but the taste will be gone in a few minutes,” she reassured him. _‘Maybe it’s the almost spaced out way she speaks. Luna sounded like she was miles away from you mentally when she spoke.’_ “Well, Mr. Weasley, I’ll be just down at the nurse’s station. Hit that button if you need me.” She said as she walked around his bed. He was tempted to ask her to stay. She made him realize just how much he missed Luna. Last he had heard of Luna, she had married a Muggle man and that they were off traveling the world together. He wondered how that was going for her. If she was happy. If people were still calling her crazy…

**X**

               Hermione stretched her arms over her head and relished in the pops of her shoulders. As she lowered her arms, she looked around Spencer’s apartment. He had much more room in the place; that could be an excuse if one or all of the team stopped by. She had shrunk one of Spencer’s lamps and put it into her purse. She had been at this since Spencer had left; she was trying to shrink things that he wouldn’t miss until he could notify his landlord that he was moving. Currently, she had one end table, the small circular dining table that he didn’t eat at, and the dining chairs. She jumped as her ring tone sliced through the air. She darted over to the coffee table and hit the green answer button.

               “Hello?” She answered.

               “Hey,” Spencer greeted her softly. She smiled immediately. She sat down slowly onto his couch.

               “Do you need my help?” She asked as she folded her legs to the left her hip.

               “No…no…There been a pause in the investigation. I thought…I would, um, call you,” Spencer finished awkwardly. Hermione couldn’t help but smile. She could see him leaning against a desk, one arm crossed over his chest.

               “Really, now?” Hermione asked teasingly. Her smile drifted wider.

               “Yeah,” Spencer answered. The conversation shifted into asking what the other was doing and stayed on that string until Spencer told her it was time for him to go. The plane would be leaving the runway soon. “I love you,” he told her. Hermione grinned as she heard Derek teasing him in the background. “Shut up, Derek…” He grumbled. Hermione giggled.

               “I love you too,” she told him before running her thumb over the end button. Vaguely, she thought of going to see Penelope. The tech had often complained of how dead the station was when the team was gone. Hermione ignored the little voice that whispered she was simply putting off the inevitable.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Case spoken of in last chapter and in the next few chapters: Distress.

Hermione was nodded at by a few of the men and women at the BAU as she walked toward Penelope’s office. She tapped on the archway of the computer filled room. Penelope spun around. Her brown eyes locked on the smaller woman. Instantly, a wide smile spread over her lips. The blonde started to wave her in frantically.

“Oh, thank God you’re here!” Hermione raised her eyebrows as she came further into the room. “It’s been so boring waiting on them!” She chuckled as she sank down on the chair beside Penelope.

“Good to know I’m useful for something,” Hermione couldn’t stop the quip. She cursed internally the moment Penelope’s eyes narrowed.

“Wow. Okay. What’s up, chic?” Penelope asked. Hermione scratched her head and went to open her mouth. It was like Penelope could see the words forming, “And don’t say nothing because I know you are lying. You so crossed the line from sarcastic to downright mad.”

“I just have a lot on my mind at the moment, Penelope,” Hermione said. The blonde tech folded her hands over one another and looked expectantly at her. Hermione sighed heavily. “I’m going to have to choose between England and here at one point…” Hermione confessed. Penelope nodded understandingly. The flood gates were open; she couldn’t stop now. “I’m just torn. I know I’ll still be able to visit but I have to choose a side, a life…” That’s really what it all boiled down too in the end.

“It’s impossible, Hermione. Your life in England is a part of you like this room is for me,” Penelope said softly as she reached across the space between them. She laid her hand down on Hermione’s knee and looked into her eyes again. “The friends you have there will come and visit you and you will visit them. Choosing a continent to stay in is not the end of your relationships. Think of it as a way to,” she pursed her lips slightly and slapped Hermione’s knee gently, “weed out the true friends.” Hermione could hear the truth behind her statements. “Well, let me ask you this. If you had to choose, where would you stay?” Spencer flashed into her mind. His beautiful brown eyes and warm smile flashed into her mind.

“Here,” Hermione answered easily. Penelope smiled widely.

“Do I even need to ask why?” She asked teasingly. Hermione couldn’t stop the blush that rose onto her cheeks at the question. Penelope laughed. Hermione bit into her bottom lip and forced herself to answer honestly.

“It’s because it’s where Spencer is,” Hermione muttered. Penelope wasn’t really surprised by the answer; she was more surprised that Hermione had said it. “Wherever Spencer wants to be, I’ll be.”

“That’s just so sweet,” Penelope couldn’t help but say. Hermione laughed. Her blush became worse; she chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck. Penelope smiled softly. “Seriously. I’m glad that you and Spencer-” she was cut off by the ringing of her phone. She spun away from her and tapped the speaker button. “Are you lonely in the Lone Star state?” Penelope asked. Hermione smiled slightly at the almost seductive purr in Penelope’s voice. “And are you wearing chaps?” Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth to smother the amused snort that threatened to escape her lips. Penelope smiled over at her brightly.

“Only in your dreams, Garcia,” Derek returned. Hermione wiggled her eyebrows at Penelope who, while smiling, flipped her off. Hermione mock gasped and placed her hand on her chest.

“Oh! Not necessarily. I have Photoshop,” Garcia returned. Hermione laughed. Garcia held up her hand for a high five. Hermione reached forward and slapped the extended hand.

“Ah, I recognize that laugh. Little Miss. Granger is with you then? Make her behave.”

“Make me/her?” Penelope and Hermione said at the same time. They looked at one another and giggled. Derek rolled his eyes and started speaking of the case instantly. Hermione’s mind drifted as the click, click of Penelope’s nails against the keys filled the room. She wondered how Spencer was doing, what he was doing.

“Little Brit, I’ll let Reid know to call you later,” Hermione heard. She pulled her head away from her palm and nodded before recalling that Derek couldn’t see her.

“Thank you,” Hermione muttered before the line was cut off. Penelope turned in her chair to study her newfound friend for a moment. She had stopped chewing on her bottom lip; her brow was smoothed out now.

“Are you alright now?” Penelope asked quietly. Hermione looked away from the computer screen that had caught her attention. She nodded distractedly.

“Yeah,” Hermione said. “Thank you-”

“It’s what friends are for,” Penelope interrupted. Hermione smiled.  

**X**

“How’s Ron and Hermione?” Luna asked from her seat at the Potter table. She had stopped by rather suddenly for a visit, but Ginny had been delighted to see a member of what they had dubbed the Silver Trio; the question however sobered her delight quickly. Quietly, she began to fill her friend in on the latest horrible developments. “That’s awful…” She stated. Ginny half expected to hear Luna tell her that an animal of some sort was involved for all of the devastation, but nothing of the sort came.

               “How are you and your husband?” Ginny asked, truly curious. Normally, a Muggle would be dying to get a taste of the Wizarding World. So, she was surprised that the man wasn’t here looking around the whole house, trying to find magical things.

               “Divorced,” Luna answered easily in the same spaced out tone she had in Hogwarts. Ginny was thrown. Her mouth fell open softly.

               “Why?!” She demanded. Luna sighed.

               “My being a witch got in the way after a year. We argued constantly on how we would travel.” she said. “I accidently left him somewhere in the rain forest when we were supposed to be apparating to Africa.” Ginny couldn’t help it; she laughed. There was something about the way Luna said accidently that made Ginny think she had done it on purpose. Luna smiled. “He didn’t find it very funny since there were spiders the size of his eyeballs lurking around.”

               “He didn’t know the half of it, did he?” Ginny chuckled, thinking of the giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest.

               “Yes, that’s what I told him.” Just when Ginny was about to worry for her friend, Luna began listing all of the animals and bugs they had seen while on their journey. She smiled softly as she listened to each description; still, her mind was with Ron. Suddenly, Luna cut off mid-description. “I should visit him.” Ginny blinked. Her mouth fell open slightly as she readied to ask her friend who she was talking about. Luna blinked back and clarified, “Ronald.”

               “Oh!” Ginny said. She swallowed. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the company…” Ginny swallowed. She hated to think of him alone in that hospital room. Ron hated silences; they all did. It brought back memories of more dangerous times.

**X**

_Hermione sat in front of him on the bed. Her back was pressed against his chest. His freckled fingers ran through her soft brown curls. Her attention was focused on her book._

_“Hermione?” He whispered as he pressed small kisses to her spaghetti strap clad shoulder. “Is the book that good?” He moved his kisses onto her neck. Her head fell to the side limply. The book fell from her hands and onto her lap. Ron smiled, thinking she enjoyed his attentions. It was when he reached her neck that he noticed the blood. “Hermione!” He yelled. He moved away from her and laid her down on the bed. She wasn’t breathing and there were three long slashes across her body._

_“Ron?” Ron spun around quickly at the sound of his best friend’s voice._

_“Harry! Thank God!” Ron stood up from Hermione’s side. Harry stood in the open doorway. His green eyes were wide with horror as he stared down at Hermione’s body. “You have to help her. She-”_

_“How could you?”_

               Ron jerked awake with a loud scream. The nurses poured into the room quickly. Ron jerked against them as they pressed his arms and legs down. He struggled to get up.

               “Mr. Weasley! Mr. Weasley! Please!” The nurses tried.

               “I have to find her!” Ron yelped. So lost in the horror of the dream, Ron couldn’t see reality. One nurse waved her wand. Ron went limp against the bed.

               “Did he get his medicine today?” Shelly asked the nurses around her as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. The nurses looked at one another.

               “Aurora was supposed to give him his medicine today…” Shelly’s eyes flashed. In moments, the nurses in the room were reduced to a two-inch height while a sleeping war hero lay between them.


	36. Chapter 36

               Luna stepped into the room to see Ron twisting and turning on the sheets. His arms and legs were bound to the bed by heavy magical bonds. She bit into her bottom lip. _‘Oh, Ron…’_ She thought sadly as she eyed the dark red skin. It twisted over the light scarring that the brains from the Ministry of Magic left. Luna stepped into the room and closed the door gently behind her. The redhead on the bed never even stirred.

               “He’s had a bad day,” the nurse whispered quietly. Luna nodded in understanding though her eyes never left Ron’s sickly face. His freckles were more prominent; his lips were chapped and cracked; and he was shivering. “Have you known him for long?” The nurse asked.

               “Since fifth year at Hogwarts,” Luna answered politely as Ron shifted to face her. The nurse stood at the foot of Ron’s bed for a few more seconds before she gave up trying to get answers out of the woman. Luna didn’t even look up as the nurse left. She simply reached into her bag and pulled out the latest issue of her father’s paper. As she waited for Ron to wait, she read. As she turned the pages, a familiar face stared up at her; Neville Longbottom wrapped his arm around his pregnant wife’s waist in a loop. Luna smiled slightly. _‘I need to go see Neville next…’_ She thought as she read his article. It spoke of the incoming baby, names, and their jobs. Clearly, her father had been thinking of her when he published it; in fact, the entire issue seemed to be directed toward her. It made her feel badly; she hadn’t picked up the Quibbler once since she had started to travel. Before she could get lost completely in her thoughts, a groan from the bed alerted her that her friend was waking up.

               The first thing Ron was aware of was the stinging in his eyes. He blinked many times to clear the blur and saw that the halo he had been seeing was actually light, light blonde hair. His heart lodged in his throat. His first thought was of Lavender, but as his vision corrected itself he saw it was Luna.

               “What are you doing here?” He croaked. Luna ignored his tone and smiled cheerfully, as she had all those years ago on the carriage back to Hogwarts.

               “Visiting you, of course,” she said airily as if he were lying in a bed in the mental wing.

               “Yeah…” Ron drawled. “I can see that. But why?” Luna smiled slightly.

               “You are my friend, Ron,” she said simply. They sat in silence for a moment. Ron studied her intensely, wondering if anyone had said anything to her about what he had done; but she gave nothing away. She simply moved things about on his desk and look around the room. ‘Probably looking for Nargles or something…’ He thought. A small amused smile ticked onto his lips. It faltered when her blue eyes met his. He swallowed and looked away.

               “Have they told you what I’ve done?” He croaked. This time, it wasn’t because his mouth was dry. It was his shame. Luna chewed her bottom lip; instantly—even though he tried not to—he thought of Hermione. He clenched his eyes shut tightly and tried to block out the malicious whisper.

               “Yes,” Luna sighed grievously. Ron looked away from her; his eyes fixed on the wall.

               “Do…do you think she could ever forgive me?” He asked quietly, so quietly that Luna almost missed it. She chewed her bottom lip again and thought long about it. She knew Hermione; the curly headed woman had more than likely already forgiven Ron.

               “I think…she’s afraid of what’s happening to you, but she’s not afraid of _you_ ,” Luna got to the heart of his true worries. “As far as forgiveness, I have no doubt she already has.” Ron rolled his lips together and nodded.

               “I want so badly to believe you.” He confessed, “But she hasn’t been to see me since I was admitted here…” A small silence—hardly nine minutes—passed before Ron continued, “And what if she never does?” He jumped and swiveled his head over to her as she placed her hand over his—which had fisted the white bed sheet.

               “She will,” Luna reassured him softly.

XSTRIPPEDBAREX

With a slightly heavy heart, Hermione left Penelope’s office and returned to Spencer’s apartment. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but she knew that she couldn’t hang around the BAU for the rest of the day. She needed to be doing something; just what that something was, she hadn’t figured out yet. She grit her teeth in aggravation before she started pacing in front of Spencer’s bookshelf again. She knew all that she needed to do.

               Ron was more than likely waiting on her to visit him and kicking himself every second she stayed away. She didn’t want to him to wallow in that guilt anymore, but she wasn’t confident enough to visit him just yet. What if she set another episode off? What if he was doing better and she just set him back again? She stopped abruptly in front of Spencer’s bookshelf. She fisted her wild curls and groaned aloud in aggravation.

               “You’re being a coward, Granger!” Hermione scolded herself harshly. “Just pull up your big girl panties and do it!”

               She stood there on the hardwood floor and tried to calm herself enough to pull off a successful apparition. Once she was certain, she apparated inches from St. Mungo’s front doors. She marched inside, refusing to listen to the quiet whispers of caution and fear. This was Ronald Weasley. He had been her best friend since she was eleven; they had been through hell together; she _owed him this._ She ignored the nurses greeting her and headed to the ward that Ron was being held in.

               She stopped just at the doorway to his room and took a deep, calming breathe. She tried to quieten the pounding of her heart.

               _“Get away from me, Mudblood.”_ She sucked in a sharp breathe. The violence he committed against her the night that she left him followed those venomous words. Hermione bit deeply into her bottom lip and shook her head roughly.

               “No,” she whispered, “Ron, the real Ron, isn’t that man.” The words sounded hollow to her, empty. She had heard them, read them, many times. They were the words an abused woman would often use to excuse her partner’s actions. “Ron. Is. Not. That. Man.” Hermione repeated forcefully. “This is different…” She added quietly as she worked to gather up all of her courage. She sighed and pushed open his door.

               The tension in her shoulders drained as she looked toward the bed. Ron was sleeping; he looked to be completely at peace. She smiled softly, but it faltered as she took him in. He looked so tired; and he had serious bruising underneath his eyes. These bruises and his freckles were made all the more prominent by the paleness of his skin. His lips were cracked. She moved her eyes away from his face. The skin of his wrists and ankles were deeply bruised from the restraints. She chewed her bottom lip. Should she wait for him to wake up?

               “Miss?” She heard a nurse call quietly as not to wake up Ron. Hermione turned and immediately heard the nurse gasp. She smothered her embarrassment at the look of wonder and admiration in the woman’s eyes. “Miss. Granger…” She breathed. Hermione waited patiently for the star-struck nurse to compose herself. The woman blushed deeply and then smiled almost regretfully. “Visiting hours are over now. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.” She informed Hermione regretfully. Hermione pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and looked over her shoulder at Ron’s still sleeping form. “If it helps,” Hermione turned back to the nurse, “he’ll probably sleep through the night…he’s exhausted.” The nurse sounded completely sympathetic and concerned. Hermione smiled.

               “Thank you,” Hermione muttered as she followed the nurse outside the room. “Um…” She started, looking away from the nurse, “how...” She licked her lips. “How is he doing?” The nurse sighed; the sound made Hermione’s stomach drop. The complete sadness in her tone told Hermione all she needed to know, but she wasn’t going to cut the nurse off. She would hear what she had to say no matter how emotionally destructive it was.

               “There’s more time between his episodes now, but…when he does have them they are more violent. You’ll have to speak to the doctor in charge of his case to learn the specifics…” The nurse said regretfully. Hermione smiled tightly.

               “I understand,” she whispered. She forced a friendly smile onto her lips and told the nurse, “thank you for all of your help. I’ll be going now…” She vaguely heard the nurse bid her goodbye as she hurried down the hallway and toward the front door. The doors hadn’t even fully swung shut before she apparated back into Spencer’s apartment. She stood in front of his couch, just staring at the faded brown couch.

               She had went to see Ron, but…she hadn’t gotten to talk to him. She had ran like a coward at the first opportunity. That familiar tightness constricted her throat. To relieve it—if only momentarily—she gave a small gasp that lead to a sob. Soon, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Hermione covered her face as she broke. The years of holding back the pain over Ron’s infidelity—denying herself the mourning of a relationship lost—and the stress of recent events bubbled forth. She sobbed noisily as she sank down onto the couch. She curled inward; her forehead touched her knees and her unbound curls feel like a curtain around her face.

               After a few minutes, Hermione leaned back against the back of the couch. Her tears had slowed; the pain in her throat had only dampened just a little. She wiped her tears away; it was a futile act because her tears were still coming. She bit deeply into her bottom lip and focused on her breathing. She knew from experience that if she breathed normally, the pain in her throat would fade and she would calm down. She stared up at the ceiling and counted her breaths. Still breathing, she closed her eyes and tried to think of something that would help to calm her down.

               Her subconscious chose Spencer. He rose to the forefront. Their moments together—their conversations those first few nights, their kisses, that dance at the club, and their first night together—played out in her mind. The pain in her throat slowly faded as she focused on her breathing and the memories. With a final sigh, she dipped her head down and wiped her tears away with the backs of her hands. She had cried herself out; she was just so exhausted now. She pushed off of the couch and made her way to Spencer’s bedroom. She pulled the covers back. She dropped her jeans and climbed into bed on Spencer’s side. She curled up tightly under the covers, attempting to imagine that the warm surrounding her was Spencer’s. She closed her eyes and sighed.

               In minutes, she was asleep.

XSTRIPPEDBAREX

               “It has come to my attention that some of you are faltering. You do not believe that I am as well a leader as Lucis,” Sting preached, pacing the room. His dark eyes lighted on each of them, glaring and measuring. He was watching for anyone to look away. Presley was certain not to. Sting passed him over to stare at Pansy. “Lucis was a coward.” He hissed, making certain to keep eye contact with Lucis. “And a liar.” He curled his lip at her. “I,” he punctuated, stepping back from them all, “am different. I will not make the same mistakes Lucis or Voldemort did.” He looked at each of them in each measure again. “I will not have wavering subjects.” He smiled sickly at all of them. Presley knew what this was about now. Sting planned to test them. “Now, it is time to weed out the wavering from the solid.” That was the only warning he gave before raising his wand quickly and pointing it at Pansy—the first in line. “Curcio!” Pansy gave a sharp scream before her knees fell out from underneath her. Presley bit a small piece of skin in his cheek to keep from reacting. If he reached for Pansy or moved for his wand, Sting would see it as a challenge to his authority. Not only would Presley seal his own death warrant, but Pansy’s as well. He numbed his ears to the sound of Pansy’s screams and tried to fight the bile that threatened to rise from his throat. After four minutes, Sting stopped. As Pansy sat up—tears cascading down her cheeks, he turned his wand to Presley. Presley let go of his cheek as Sting raised his wand again. He uttered the Unforgiveable Curse again. Presley felt his knees go weak as the pain slammed into his senses. He clenched his jaw tightly to smother the screams that wanted to rise as the curse danced the conga along his nerve endings. He hit his knees, but didn’t fall to the floor as Pansy had. He stayed upright even though his body convulsed. His legs shook and jumped as did his arms and torso, but he did not fall. He was determined not to give Sting the pleasure of seeing him that low; it was bad enough that he was on his knees. After four minutes of this torture—like with Pansy, Sting let up. Presley couldn’t stop the panting as he rose to his feet again. His entire body protested standing, but he forced himself too. He could not appear weak here. Weak meant you were prey to the bigger, older members. He had enough to deal with just being Presley.

               Sting looked toward the next in line. It was a man with light greying hair and deep brown eyes. Presley knew that he was one of Voldemort’s original followers. He hadn’t had any standing; he wasn’t one of Voldemort’s favorites—most trusted. In fact, he had had no real talent. This man flinched. “I was Voldemort’s follower and after that Lucius’,” the man stated, “you don’t have to test me, Sting. I am loyal to you.”

               “Then prove it.” Sting pressed. The older man set rolled his lips and looked toward the one beside him and then to Presley. Presley grit his teeth, knowing that the man was about to sign his death warrant. Unlike the older members, Presley did not underestimate Sting’s resolve. 

               “I am loyal-” Sting sighed as the man once more tried to convince him. He looked at him—almost remorsefully—and raised his wand. The man took a step back and opened his mouth as if to plead, but not a word escaped before Sting shouted:

               “Avada Kedavra!”   

x

               Hours later, Presley apparated into his flat. The moment his feet touched the floor of his living room, his legs fell out from underneath him. For a few seconds, he laid there, shaking and twitching. His muscles were tired from the torture and his pride. All he wanted now was to sleep, but he didn’t think he could make it to his bed. He moved his head to look at the couch. That would be his destination. That is where he would sleep. He pushed himself up painfully and stood on his quivering legs. He collapsed on the couch once he got close enough.

               It wasn’t sleep that took him, not really. He had passed out due to the pain in his limbs.

               On the couch, shivering, was how Draco found him later. The blonde looked down at his friend and gritted his teeth. He could only imagine what Sting had put his friend through. He had been there after all in the later days of Voldemort’s reign. The things Voldemort had done to the older men in the circle…it was awful to witness. Draco had never wanted to watch, but he knew if he looked away Voldemort would kill him too. So, he had fought against the urge to throw up and watched. He knew it must be the same for Presley.

               He looked down at his friend, uncomfortably sprawled onto the couch. He frowned and gently shifted his friend’s limbs into a more comfortable position. Presley didn’t even wake, which spoke to the ordeal he had been through. Draco felt the familiar swell of anger rising in his chest as he rose from his kneeling. Presley had always been a generally light sleeper; so, the fact that he could touch him and he wouldn’t wake spoke to just how tired he was. Draco whipped out his wand and took the blanket and pillows off of Presley’s bed; he levitated them into the room, put the pillow underneath Presley’s head, and draped the blanket over his body. Draco then eased himself into the armchair opposite his friend and waited. He leaned forward and took a book from the coffee table to bide his time.          


	37. Chapter 37

Presley’s eyes felt heavy and scratchy as he tried to open his eyes. He couldn’t raise his hands to rub them because the muscles in his arms hurt too badly. He really just wanted to go back to sleep, but he could hear someone in his flat. He forced them open and tilted his head to see Draco, sitting there on his armchair with a book in hand. Draco looked up at that moment and met his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He croaked painfully. Even though he had never screamed, his throat felt raw and dry. He swallowed; the action hurt and didn’t achieve what he wanted it too.

“I came to check on you,” Draco said as he set the book aside. He acted as though he hadn’t seen his friend’s pained expression. He knew to mention it would only cause Presley embarrassment. He was hurting, but he didn’t want it to be announced even if it was just the two of them. 

“How’d you know I was back?” He asked even as his eyelids dipped down.

“I wasn’t sure, but I thought enough time had passed,” Draco answered without pause.

“How did you know they hadn’t killed me?” He croaked in return, truthfully wanting the answer. Draco smirked.

“You’re too stubborn to die,” he returned. Presley chuckled, wincing as the action aggravated his aching body.

“How flattering.”

“So,” Draco started, staring intently at his friend, “what happened?” Presley grimaced and looked back toward the ceiling.

“Sting’s going to make another move soon, more than likely. He’s testing the loyalties of his followers with the Cruciatus Curse. He killed the ones that didn’t want to go through with it.” Draco frowned.

“How many?”

“Three in total.”

“That shaves the amount of his followers down to seven.” Presley nodded at Draco’s assessment. They fell silent for a long moment, lost in their thoughts. Presley drifted off to sleep during this silence. Draco didn’t speak again, content to let his friend sleep it off. He weighed his options. He needed to leave, but he didn’t want to leave his friend unprotected. Though he could see no reason for Sting or any of this followers to attack him, he didn’t want to chance it. Draco cast a few protection charms around the flat before walking out of the flat. He apparated in the hallway and reappeared at the Weasley house. The Order needed to know that Presley was…relatively alright; he also needed to get a potion to lessen the pain for his friend.    

XSTRIPPEDBAREX

               Hermione awoke slowly, turning her head toward the ceiling. She gave a small moan and raised her hands to her eyes; she rubbed the hell of her palm onto her eyes as she tried to wake up. She rolled over reluctantly and looked toward the alarm clock. She had slept all night and well into the day. She blinked, surprised. She hadn’t known she was that in need of sleep. At some point during the night, Hermione had rolled back over to her side; her heart ached a little at seeing the empty space where Spencer would have slept. She sighed and slipped from underneath the covers. She threw her legs over the bed. The minute her toes brushed the cold floor she flinched. The shock of the cold caused her to wake up a little more. She pushed the cover farther back and stood up. As she walked toward Spencer’s bathroom, she ran a hand through her wild curls. She grimaced as her fingers caught a rather vicious tangle and then proceeded to catch on at least six others.

               It was okay, she reasoned with herself. All of those tangles would loosen when she took a shower; and then she would comb them out once she got out. She wiggled her fingers free of the tangles and stepped into Spencer’s bathroom. She turned on the hot water and a dash of cold before getting a towel from his cabinet and stripping out of her button up from the night before. Small circles were imprinted in the skin of her stomach and breasts; they were so prominent that they burned whenever she touched them. Apparently, she had slept on her stomach for most of the night. That was a rarity; usually, she slept on her side. She shrugged it away and shed her underwear. She tentatively toed the water pooled near the drain. It wasn’t warm, enough to tint her skin a light pink. She climbed inside and pulled his shower curtain closed.

               Once her hair was wet enough, she grabbed Spencer’s shampoo and lathered a handful of it into her hair. As she made certain the suds covered every inch of her hair, Hermione’s thoughts drifted. She wondered when Spencer was getting home; she wondered if she should try to see Ron again today; but most of all, she wondered if it was even a good idea. She chewed her bottom lip. It didn’t escape her that Ron had started his downward spiral when he was dating her. What if her presence in his room caused him to have a set back? She absentmindedly ran her fingers through her curls—gently coaxing the suds out of her hair. _‘But what if it helps him?’_ She wondered. ‘ _This is Ron…he’s going to want to know if I’m okay with him. He’s going to want to know if I can forgive him. And…he’ll never know that unless he sees me…’_ She sighed and grabbed Spencer’s conditioner. She squeezed a small quarter sized amount onto her palm and rubbed it only in the ends.

               She moved through the rest of her shower struggling with it. _Should she visit Ron?_ Was it a blessing in disguise that he had been asleep when she went last night?

XSTRIPPEDBAREX

               Shelly fought about whether or not to tell her patient that Hermione Granger had come by. Like the rest of the nurses at the ward, she knew how violate her patient was. Even though he had been calm for the past few hours—since Luna Lovegood’s visit earlier that morning, she wasn’t certain that mentioning her name would be a good thing. But she took in how every time heels clicked outside, Ronald’s eyes would jump toward the door and hope would fill them. Everyone in his family had come to visit him; his friends had come to visit—all except Hermione Granger. And she had been by yesterday. She sighed. His blue eyes fell on her.

               “What is it, Shelly?” Ron asked, still strapped to the bed by the restraints. She didn’t meet his eyes. She kept them down on the potion that she was ladling into the small glass for him. Ron quirked an eyebrow at the obvious evasion. “Shelly?” He pressed, softening his tone enough so that she wouldn’t be frightened by him. He wasn’t blind; he had seen her jump half out of her skin when he spoke higher than a normal tone.  

               “You have to promise not to keep ahold of yourself, okay, Mr. Weasley?” She caved, feeling reassured by his tone. Ron tilted his head curiously.

               “Um…okay.” Shelly looked up at him now. Her tongue flicked out the side of her mouth; a habit that made him reminisce of Barty Crouch, Jr.

               “Hermione Granger came by last night,” Shelly admitted finally. Ron’s reaction was instant. His eyes widened. His heart skipped a small beat; and he almost sat up before he recalled the restraints. He wasn’t going to make it very far; any fast movement like the one he wanted to make would cause the restraints to tighten. “But you were asleep still.”

               “Why…why didn’t she wake me?” He asked quietly. Ron couldn’t help but feel a little brokenhearted. Shelly chewed her bottom lip.

               “I’m guessing…that she thought what we did.” He tilted his head. “You looked so tired. You needed rest.”

               “Did…did she say that she would be back today?” He asked. The hope in his voice broke Shelly’s heart. She shook her head. His face fell. Ron sagged against the bed and looked up at the ceiling. He tried not to let it get to him. He heard Shelly’s quiet pats as she left the room, but didn’t acknowledge her leaving. He understood why Hermione would hesitate. He understood that she may be wary of him. Wary only because Hermione would never be afraid of him.

               Hermione was fearless in her own way; it was one of the things that had captivated him about her. He could list all of those things, but it wouldn’t do him any good. Hermione was gone to him, in a relationship with someone else, and no amount of groveling would make her come back to him. He looked up to the ceiling. He had lost Lavender; he had lost Hermione…and now, he was danger of losing his freedom. There was a tap on the door. He looked over to see Luna.

               Today, she wore cork earrings—literally corks from wine bottles—and a deep yellow and dark brown striped shirt and dark brown flowing skirt. He could see her feet were covered in yellow wedge heels. He quirked an eyebrow.

               “Did you…dress up to come see me?” He asked, amusement laced his tone. Luna smiled softly and practically glided into the room. As she came toward him, she withdrew something from behind her back. His eyes landed on them. Sunflowers.

               “I thought you could use something bright in this depressing room,” Luna said as she transfigured the small, empty tray on the tabletop into an orange vase. Ron smiled slightly. Luna always was a splash of color no matter where she went. She smiled back to him and sank down onto the chair beside his bed. “So, how are you today?” Luna asked, tilting her head to the side.

               “Hermione came by last night…but I was asleep,” he said. Despite the amount of depression in his tone, Luna smiled happily.

               “That’s progress,” she reassured him with a small clap that was more a joining of her hands. 

               “Yeah…I guess,” Ron muttered. Luna set her lips to the side and slapped him lightly on the arm. He jerked and looked over at her, bewildered.

               “Don’t you dare do that, Ronald Weasley,” She scolded sharply. He furrowed his eyebrows. The usual airiness in her tone was gone; now, she sounded fully in the moment and angry. “Hermione didn’t have to even try. After what you did to her, she owes you nothing!” Luna’s tone softened as Ron’s eyes fell to the white blanket that covered his waist. “You have to be patient. I know that patience has never been your strong suit; but, in here, you have nothing but time. So, instead of moping over the lot that you have gotten, why not do something productive and try to get better.”

               “How, Luna?” He croaked. “How do I get better when we don’t even know what this is?!”

               “Talk to them,” Luna demanded, tilting her head to the doctor outside. She moved to rise whenever the doctor walked in through the door, but Ron’s fingers closed gently over her wrist. He hadn’t needed to move to reach her so the restraints allowed it. She looked back to him and raised her eyebrows.

               “Will you stay?” He asked timidly. Luna nodded and eased back into the chair. The doctor smiled at them both as he came to a stop at the end of Ron’s bed. As the doctor greeted him and asked how he was feeling today, Ron licked his lips and for the first time since admission talked to him. Once he was finished, the doctor grimaced and nodded.

               “We’ve talked to Mr. Potter and he’s suggested something that we are willing to allow. Your friend, Mr. Black, has offered to let us get a look at the inside of your mind. He’ll enter your mind, much the same way he did the night you were admitted, only this time we’ll have a live feed to it.”

               “Can’t…he just show his memory of it?” Ron asked nervously. The doctor smiled, understanding his patient’s reservations about it.

               “Your mind appears to be more stable than it was on that night, Mr. Weasley. We need to see if that is true. When Mr. Black arrives, we will compare his memory of that night to what he sees in your mind now…”

               “You’re going to use Sirius to track Ron’s progress,” Luna realized. The doctor nodded.

               “We have never dealt with a case like this before, Miss. Lovegood,” he told her, “Therefore, we can’t treat it as we usually would.”

XSTRIPPEDBAREX

               Hermione walked into Spencer’s living room, gathering her curls into her hand. She wrapped them in a tight spiral and clipped it in place with a large, black claw clip. She had charmed it to hold her hair and lessen the weight so that she wouldn’t have headaches. Hermione pushed the sleeves of the light purple button up (that she had stolen from Spencer’s closet) back up her wrists. She rolled them up a few times as she wandered into the kitchen to fix herself some breakfast and coffee. She set up the coffee before she turned to browse the shelves of his refrigerator.

               She had recently stocked his entire refrigerator with food so that she would have something to eat when she stayed over. So, her meal for the morning was easy to find: the ingredients for a grill cheese sandwich and eggs. She had fortified her resolve as she got dressed. Today, come hell or high water, she was _going_ to visit Ron and this time she was _going_ to stay until she had talked to him.

x

               Hours later, Hermione peeked into Ron’s hospital room. She could see a blonde head—long and light blonde hair—and she caught the slight sight of cork earrings. She smiled. Luna. She waited to knock; she knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but she wanted to know what could possibly have them so animated. They were leaning close to together; she could see Luna’s hands flying as she spoke. Luna was excited by something; and judging from Ron’s tone, he was nervous. Before the redhead could look up and be surprised by her, Hermione tapped on the door.

               Luna turned at the waist to see who it was; while Ron simply leaned his head back on the pillows. His eyes widened before he greedily drank in what stood in the doorway. Hermione had come back. She stood in the doorway, wearing a light purple button up, dark jeans, and her usual converses. She gave him a timid smile, waiting no doubt on his reaction. And he could feel it. The tugging of that darker side of him against his chains. It thrashed against its chains, growling and cursing madly—begging him to let him out. All of the dark thoughts it whispered caused him to shiver, but all the while, his eyes never left Hermione.

               “Can I come in?” Hermione asked him. Ron cleared his throat; now aware of how silly he must have looked, gaping at her as he had been.

               “Sure,” he said, proud that his tone was almost back to normal. She smiled and walked toward his bedside, stopping at Luna’s chair. The blonde smiled happily up at her friend.

               “It is so nice to see you again, Hermione,” Luna greeted, grabbing Hermione’s hand gently. Hermione smiled down at her friend.

               “It’s good to see you too, Luna. Where’s your husband?” Hermione asked, furrowing her brows. Luna sighed.

               “We got a divorce.”

               “What?! Why?” Hermione demanded. Ron, for the first time, was simply content to lay there and listen because it was so good to hear Hermione’s voice again. For a moment—as Luna told Hermione why her husband and she had gotten a divorce—he could pretend that this was a visit between friends, that all of those horrible things that had driven her away had never happened and that they were well on their way to being engaged. But, as Hermione moved her arms to hug Luna, he realized how futile those dreams were. The purple button up shirt was wearing was a man’s. Not his or any of his brothers—this included Harry; no man in his family could pull off purple. Jealousy made the beast inside of him shake the chains a little harder. He firmly directed his mind and his eyes elsewhere. He had went a day and a half now without an episode; he wasn’t going to break that streak. His eyes landed then on Luna; her brilliant blue met his. She smiled encouragingly. He knew then that she was going to stick around through this, because she knew what he was going through without him even having to say a word.

               Once the story telling and hugs were over, Hermione turned her attention nervously to Ron. He had simply laid there the entire time, listening to them. Which was good, she guessed. Ron would usually get indignant if he went ignored for long—even before the mess with the Horcruxes; so, she wasn’t sure how to take this patient Ron.

               “It’s good to see you, Hermione,” he said, greeting her and acknowledging the olive branch that she was extending. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.” He added; his ears tinted red at the tips, embarrassed because even though Luna knew all of this he still was saying it in front of her. But he wasn’t ready to let her leave just yet; he was afraid that if she did, he would lose control of the beast that was fragilely held back by chains.

               “It’s good to see you too, Ronald,” Hermione said honestly; the weight on her shoulders felt lifted as she sank down onto the chair beside Luna. It was a tight squeeze, but they made it work by shifting around. Luna wound her arm around Hermione’s shoulders. Hermione had her arm across Luna’s back. Ron chuckled at the sight they made.

               “Are you two witches, are not?” He asked warmly, teasingly. Both women looked toward one another and flushed a little, but both smiled.

               “Nah, I think we’re okay like this,” Hermione reasoned. 

               “After all, they do say distance brings you closer and we’ve been apart for how long now?” Luna looked toward Hermione. Hermione titled her head.

               “About four years,” she answered accurately. Luna had married shortly after Hogwarts and had left even faster.

               “Okay, okay,” Ron chuckled, “I get it. The two of you want to be close.” He looked teasingly at the both of them and then said, “But really I think the two of you are too prideful now to get up and just conjure another chair.”

               “Probably,” Luna agreed airily while Hermione just laughed. Ron smiled at the sound; his heart gave an involuntarily jump. Despite all that he had done to her—and all of the distance between them now, Ron still loved her. He could acknowledge it in his mind, but he would never acknowledge it out loud. Hermione was gone from him. She had moved on.

               Hours passed with small talk between the three until a sharp look from Luna prompted Ron to do what Hermione had never thought he would do. In a lulling moment of silence, Ron licked his lips and looked Hermione in the eye.

               “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “for what I did to you. I know it doesn’t make it right and my being—not really myself—doesn’t make it any better either. I still hurt you. I hurt Lavender. I hurt everyone, but…I’ve already apologized to them…but I acknowledge I haven’t made it right. And I don’t think there is any possible way to make this right…” He trailed off at Hermione’s glistening eyes.

               “Ron,” she sighed, reaching out and touched his hand, “you don’t have to make things right by me. I understand and I wasn’t—I’m not—going to abandon you because of this. Things are just…probably going to be different now.” She added slowly, sadly. Ron nodded.

               “I understand,” Ron nodded. He didn’t say that he was fine with it because he wasn’t, but it did understand that right now it was the best he could get.

               Hermione stayed, talking to Ron and Luna, for a few more minutes before she bid them goodbye. It was her intention to check up on everyone while she could. Spencer had hinted that the case was almost closed when they were on the phone the other day; and she wanted to be able to spend time with him before he got called away on yet another case.

x

               Hermione was careful when it came to visiting Presley. She had just come back from the Weasleys so she had heard what Sting had done, but she wanted to see for herself that he was alright. She disguised herself thoroughly enough that if any Death Eaters were watching his place they would simply think nothing of her. She had magically changed her bushy, brown hair to a straight blonde; it wouldn’t seem like much but she had learned over the years that Death Eaters never looked past the initial first sight. And most Death Eaters knew her by her hair.

               She knocked on Presley’s apartment door, letting the disguise fall away as she heard a quiet, pained “Come in.” Hermione frowned and pushed on the door. Presley lay there on the couch—still where Draco had left him apparently. “Hermione!” He croaked in surprise. She smiled.

               “I’ve just come from the Weasleys. They thought that you’d need this.” Hermione withdrew one of her own vials from her pocket and extended it to him. The potion that Draco had asked the Weasleys to make was moving slow. It took about twelve hours to make. Presley took it from her with a grateful smile and downed it. He smacked his lips and curled his nose. Hermione quirked an eyebrow. “Now, what’s up with that face?!”

               “Vanilla,” he grimaced as he forced himself to sit her. Hermione rolled her eyes and step back.

               “You should have tried it when Madame Pomfrey made it,” Hermione wrinkled her nose, remembering the awful taste. Presley laughed weakly and allowed Hermione to help him from the couch. Presley tried to keep much of his weight off of her, but it was almost impossible to do so. His legs were still trembling so badly, but Hermione didn’t complain. She shouldered his weight. Together, they stumbled into his bedroom. With a flick of her wand, the covers on Presley’s bed drew back; his pillow fluffed itself. He chuckled at the action. Hermione stopped and helped him onto the bed. The cover rose back over him.

               “How long are you here for?” He asked. She didn’t know if he meant England or if he meant his home, but either way she answered:

               “Just for a few more hours. I can’t be gone all day,” Hermione said as she gathered up the clutter that Presley had left on his night-table. He couldn’t help but be amused by her fusing over him. Granger would be an awesome wife and mother, he knew.

               “Right, you don’t know when lover boy will be back,” Presley acknowledged. Hermione huffed and threw the things she had gathered into his garbage can at the end of the nightstand.

               “His name’s Spencer, Presley,” she snapped as she walked out his bedroom door. He waited to hear the front door open, but it never came. Instead, he heard her milling about in his cabinets. He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. Of course. He laid back and closed his eyes, simply content to let her cook for him. Simply content to have someone else in this empty apartment.

               About an hour later, he was roused awake by the smell of chicken soup and something heavy on his lap. Hermione had conjured up him a tray and was setting the bowl of chicken soup onto it. He blinked as she set a glass of water and a spoon down beside it.

               “Eat,” she commanded as she stood back and folded her arms over her chest. Presley gave a gentle laugh, but sat up and proceeded to do as she said. After all, he needed it. It was nice, he decided, to have someone caring for him. Maybe he should get a boyfriend. He was tired of being lonely.

 _‘First, I’ll have to tell everyone,’_ he thought. And that idea scared him more than anything. The Wizarding World could be a harsh place to someone different. He hadn’t even told his biological father, but his adoptive parents knew. After all, he hadn’t been able to hide it from them—no matter how many Muggle girls he forced himself to bring home. To be honest, confessing that he was homosexual was something that had haunted him. He had always wanted too, but he was terrified of the reaction he would get. He had kept his sexuality a secret for years—ever since he figured out that women didn’t cause the same reactions in him as they did in his friends. He felt nothing when he looked at a naked woman in the magazines or saw one on TV. He felt nothing when he held those girls’ hands or even when he kissed that one girl on the swings. But the first guy he had kissed? That had been another story all together. He had liked it and he had done it again. His first boyfriend had been a fifteen-year-old Muggle boy by the name of Devon. They had hid their relationship from both of their parents and then hid it from their friends. They had broken up before he had went back to school for his fifth year. He looked up at Hermione. She tilted her head. He might as well start with her.

“What is it?” Hermione knew that look in his eyes. It was fear. She didn’t like it. Presley wasn’t supposed to be scared in his own home; he certainly wasn’t supposed to ever look at her with it. “Lei-Lei, what’s up?” He smiled slightly at the nickname; she had only ever used it when she was really worried or really scared. He licked his lips and took her hand.

“Mione…I…”His courage faltered; he looked away from her eyes as he asked, “in all the time you’ve known me, have I ever had a girlfriend?” If Hermione was confused by this question, it didn’t show. Hermione tilted her head to the side and searched her memory. After a few seconds, she shook her head.

“There were rumors in school, but that’s all they ever seemed to be. I never saw you with any of the girls were supposedly dating…” She said. Presley nodded.

“It’s because…” Presley faltered again because this was hard. His lips refused to form the words that may very well doom his friendship with her. Hermione giggled.

“Are you trying to tell me that you like men?” He gawked at her and nodded slowly. Hermione smiled warmly. “I’ve known for a long time, Presley.”

“H-How?”

“I just know these things,” she said matter-of-factly. Presley chuckled.

“Know-it-all.”

“Yup,” Hermione said. All playfulness vanished from her tone as she looked down at him and asked, “Does this mean that you’re going to start telling everyone now?” Presley licked his lips.

“In time,” he admitted. “It was nerve-wrecking enough just getting what little I could out to you…I don’t think I’m ready for all of our friends and family to know just yet.” Hermione nodded.

“And that’s okay,” she reassured him. “Now, eat the rest of your soup before it gets cold.”

“Yes, ma’am.”      

               There was a small lull in the room before a thought best voiced occurred to Hermione.

               “You’re not in love with Draco, are you?” Presley promptly choked on his soup. He took him a few seconds to formulate his reply through his hacking. Hermione rubbed his back in apology.

               “Merlin, no!” He coughed once he had gotten himself under control.

               “Good, because you could do _so_ much better,” Hermione playfully dissed their mutual friend. Presley grinned. Hermione took her hand off of his back and said, “Just let me know when you’re ready to tell everyone else and I’ll be there. You know, for support.” It wasn’t a hard promise to make or keep. 

               “Thanks,” Presley smiled, squeezing Hermione’s hand in his own before returning to his dwindling soup. He felt lighter now, knowing that one person in his world knew his secret. Maybe, with her on his side, telling the others wouldn’t be so hard. 

X

It was seven o’clock by the time she returned home. Hermione left Presley’s shortly after the man had fallen asleep. Draco had arrived to take over for her. If Presley had been awake, she knew that he would have insisted all of this taking shifts and things weren’t necessary, but it was to them. Everyone in the Order knew, tragically, what the Cruciatus Curse did to the body. They knew the effects of it: how it left you feeling tired for days after, how you didn’t even want to move from the bed or the floor—whenever it was you landed when you finally got away from your tormentors. Hermione—nor any of the others—wanted Presley to be on his own.

She looked around Spencer’s apartment and felt warmth rush through her; yes, this was home. She smiled softly. If she had been told a few months ago that she would have found such happiness in America, she would have looked at them blankly; her heart back then had still been so scarred by Ron’s infidelity that she couldn’t imagine giving her heart to someone else. But Spence…Spencer had completely invaded her heart in such a short amount of time. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she had given her heart to him. It still baffled her how quickly they had moved into this.

It felt—sometimes—as though they had moved too fast, but she had never felt happier. This was right; she could feel it deep in her soul. In the late hours of the night, she could feel her magic reaching out for him, confirming what she already knew. Even before they had slept together, they were connected. It wasn’t wholly unheard of for a witch to find their other half in a Muggle, but from what she had read it was unheard of for a soul bond to happen with a Muggle. In order for a soul bond to happen, the other person had to have magic of their own. Which…led her to believe Spencer did—somewhere down his bloodlines—have a magical being in his family.

It would explain a lot of things, Hermione realized. It explained why she had flat-lined in the hospital that night. Her heart tugged uncomfortably at the thought of his death, but she knew—for a few minutes—he had died. She knew because for a few minutes she had died also.

She had pushed all of it to the back of her mind because there had been other things she felt more important, but now…now that Ron was getting better and she had faced him, she was free of those chains. She didn’t feel guilty for being happy with him, for trying to move forward with him. The lightness she felt now made her giddy.

She _couldn’t wait_ for Spencer to get home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making Presley prefer men wasn’t a spur of the moment type thing. I had been toggling with the idea since I introduced his character to the story. Anyways, reviews are always appreciated and thank you for reading. Hopefully, after almost a year or something of no updates, this story hasn’t lost any of its goodness.


End file.
